Smoking Embers
by Culurien Malinalda
Summary: Katniss doesn't think of the berries and Peeta dies at the end of the 74th Hunger Games. She doesn't stir the uprisings and doesn't become the big threat to the Capitol. Still it's a Panem in turmoil. How is Katniss going to living on? And how is she going to face the role of mentoring for the upcoming Quarter Quell?
1. Chapter 1 - Kinder

_Disclaim: I don't owe the Hunger Games_

_A/N 4. january 2014: I have gotten a Beta who will read through my story. Thank you so much to outside the crayon box who is going to Beta for me! Every chapter is going to be edited and reposted. When a chapter is edited, I'm going to mark it at the start. The chapters will be reposted in chronological order. Hope you all enjoy, and thank you for reading!_

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Kinder**

* * *

_Black clouds are behind me, I now can see ahead  
Often I wonder why I try hoping for an end  
Sorrow weighs my shoulders down  
And trouble haunts my mind  
But I know the present will not last  
And tomorrow will be kinder_

The Secret Sisters – "Tomorrow Will Be Kinder"

* * *

I look out over the setting sun, which is slowly setting behind the treetops. Before, I would have been mesmerized by the shifting colors and the spreading hues. Now I only feel numb, like I feel most of the time these days.

My mother and Prim will start to worry if I don't show up soon, or maybe they are glad I'm out doing something, not just sitting in a chair by the fire like I did the first few weeks.

But the cold is creeping in, and I know it's time to head back. As I stand and stretch, I realize my legs and feet have fallen asleep, and I hop and jump, trying to awaken them. As cramps begin to settle in, I retrieve my game bag, which holds two squirrels. If I was out for an entire day with nothing to show, Mom and Prim would probably send me to the loony bin.

Maybe I'll go to the bakery to switch them for some bread. The baker has always had a weak spot for squirrels, but I know I can't do it. I don't have the nerve to visit Peeta's family yet, to look them in the eye, knowing I'm the reason that their son and brother isn't coming home.

I know I can't think this way. There's only one victor of the Hunger Games. It has always been this way, and it won't change. I had no way of saving him, and I needed to save myself. It's the way of our world. The memory of Peeta and the last part of the Games are, at least for the time being, banned from entering my head. I think I might drown in my own thoughts if I keep going like this.

* * *

When I first came home, they let me be. "Poor girl," they said sympathetically, "let her have some time to figure things out." I sat down in a chair in front of the fire in our new home in Victors Village, and just stayed there. Days became weeks, and I didn't show any sign of getting up.

Prim was with me as much as she could. She sat by me and talked about what was going on in the everyday life of District 12. She prepared me food that was mostly left uneaten, and wrapped in me in blankets that normally fell to the floor, kicked or thrown off in nightmares.

Gale had started working in the mines, and was working long hours six days a week. Yet he managed to come by almost every day to check on me. Most days he couldn't stay long. After all, he had a family too. He pulled up a chair next to me and held my hand, making small talk and trying to soothe me. But as the days went by, I could feel his restlessness and impatience with me increase. One day he couldn't hold it back anymore. He shouted at me: "Pull it together! You need to be strong, Katniss. What happened to the girl I used to know?" It came as no surprise. Gale had a strong spirit, and he said what he meant. "Look at me, Katniss," he pleaded. For the first time since I came home, I made eye contact with another human being, and I started crying. The fire went out of him. He let his arms wrap around me and pulled me close. After the worst hysterics was over, he kissed the top of my head and left without a word.

Gale didn't come the next day, nor the day after that. I began worrying that he had given up on me. It was the first incident that made me feel something again: a stinging in my chest, an ache in my heart. But the third day he was there again. He sat down, as he did before, and took my hand in his. After a short while, I leaned over and rested my head against his shoulder. We didn't say anything.

In the end, it was my mother that woke me from my haze. About a week after the incident with Gale, she also lost her temper with me. In contrast to Gale, this time it _did_ come as a surprise. I had never seen her this angry before, except that time she yelled at my father for teaching me The HangingTree.

"Katniss!" she'd screamed, shaking my shoulders. "Get a grip! You can't go on like this. The Games are over, Peeta is dead, and the sooner you accept this and move on, the better." She knelt down before me, and lifted my chin so I had to look straight at her. I flinched but forced myself to stare her down. "Do you remember what you said to me before you got on the train? That I had to be strong? That I had to be there for Prim and not get sick again? It's the same for you now. You have to get out of the darkness, and come back to us. I know it's hard. I have been there myself, remember? But I did manage, and you can too. You are strong. Stronger than me." After a long pause, she did add, "I have medicine, if you need something to get you going, but…"

I just shook my head.

"That's fine; I won't compel you to do anything if you make an effort yourself. But if you are not out of this chair by tomorrow, I will personally hold you down and force it down your throat."

The next day, I stood up, trekked down a dirt path to our old house, dug out my father's leather jacket. It felt cold and empty inside old home. No one lived there anymore. I just stood in the middle of our old kitchen for a while. I was about to leave when I heard the hissing. There he was. Buttercup. As ugly as ever. He moved towards me, and hissed again. "Sorry, I don't have anything for you." I was about to leave for the second time when I turned around and looked at him one more time. "I will bring you something tomorrow… Promise."

It was sunny outside and there was still a warm breeze in the air, and soon, I was sweating. But the coat was a protective layer from the horrors surrounding me, and I refused to take it off.

I made my way through the Victors' Village and continued strolling without a particular destination in mind. Consequently, it wasn't long before I was standing outside the Hawthorne home. It was sturdier than our old shack, and made of red brick. Before I could turn around Hazelle ran out to greet me. She hugged me for a long time, and I noticed tears forming in her hazel eyes. She pulled me inside, pushed me down into a chair, and set a pot on the stove for tea. While we were waiting, she asked how I was.

"I'm doing okay," I stuttered quietly. I knew she was waiting for more, for a hint of the girl I used to be, but I had nothing else to offer. "What about you? And the kids?"

"It's been hard." She admitted. "I relied on Gale so much, and we don't have much food. As you know, he's been in the mines so often that he has no time to hunt, and Rory had to take out tesserae."

Her words weighed in my heart. For the first time, I saw her hands: cracked and red and sore from constant scrubbing. And we both knew what Gale had been doing on his time off. Not hunting, as he should have been, but sitting with me, trying futilely to make me feel better. That's when I remembered the purse I had brought, with money.

At first she tried to refuse.

"Take it," I urged. "We have so much money now, after…" I couldn't say "my win." It didn't feel like a win. "After the Games. We can never spend it all. But don't say anything to Gale; he'll get mad." I pushed the bag into her hands. "Please, Hazelle, I want you to have it."

"Thank you so much, Katniss. This means a lot to me. To u-us."

After the conversation with Hazelle, I decided to start hunting, not really for my own sake, but so I could give whatever I shot to Gale and his family. I had the time that Gale did not, and I could use that so that his family didn't starve.

On my way home, I stopped by the Hob. The silence felt thick and awkward when those inside saw who was standing in the doorway. Greasy Sae just smiled at me, and returned to ladling broth into cheap plastic bowls. It was a signal for the others to continue as well, and after a short while, conversation and chatter and barter filled the room as normal. Gratefully, I thanked Greasy Sae under my breath and bought some soup, letting her keep the change.

Some of the others, old women trying to make an extra dollar to make their retirement more comfortable like Ripper, or young men who hadn't passed their mining tests like Geoffrey, squeezed my hand or gave me a pat on the back, uttering words such as, "good to see you" and "way to go, Katniss" or "we're rooting for you." No one mentions the Hunger Games, or Peeta, or the Capitol, although usually they rant freely. Someone, probably Greasy Sae, had definitely told them not to bring those things up.

The only one that sat down to talk was Darius. He was his usual funny, joking self. He told a story of how he bought a pound of cheese from the goat man for a pin he said looked a lot like my mockingjay, but really, it didn't resemble it at all. You would think I'd be upset for his mention of the Games, but I was so relieved for his relaxed, normal behavior. My lips formed an actual smile for the first time in so long. When he wanted to escort me home, "because it's such an honor to be seen in the presence of a celebrity," I said yes, because I really wanted him to.

After that, the days went by more easily. It took a few more tries before I went under the fence and snuck into the woods to gather plants and fish. Another few tries before I picked up my bow, and attempted to shoot an arrow at a nearby tree. The next Sunday I got up early, packed a bag with bread, cheese, sausages, and some dried plums, food enough for two, and went out to the woods. I sat at the spot where Gale and I used to meet.

I don't know how long I waited.

But just when I was about to give up, thinking he wouldn't come, he plopped down next to me, soundless as always. "I came by your house, and you weren't there. Your mother had no clue where you were. I hoped I would find you here."

We didn't say much. We ate. We looked for game, but neither of us found anything. I was enjoying the sights and smells and sounds of the forest around me. The familiarity of it was uncanny. Finally, I felt like I was home.

That was when I thought I might be able to forget. Or, if not forget, move on.

* * *

That was some weeks ago. Although, day to day, it gets easier, I can't afford to think of Peeta and maybe drown in darkness again. Maybe someday. But not yet. Not anytime soon.

Maybe not ever.

_Stop thinking like this._

"Cinna called." I've just stepped into the front hallway when my mother pops her head out from the little study where our telephone is located. "He wanted to talk to you. Said something about starting to work on your talent."

"My talent?" Somewhere in the back of my head, I recall discussions of a 'talent,' something each Victor is supposed to have as they embark on their Victory Tour. Past Victors have done all sorts of things, from painting to flower arranging to playing flute to writing books.

"Yes, he asked me to get you to call him when you got home."

"Sure, I'll do that." Talking to Cinna is actually an appealing thought. Although my mother seems surprised that I agree so readily, I just smile and get to it.

"Hello?" Cinna's heartwarming voice echoes through the phone lines.

"Hi, Cinna, it's Katniss." No matter how easy it is, I'm still not yet used to talking to someone without them being right there in the room.

"Katniss! Good you called! Your mother said you were out. That's great."

Obviously, even Cinna was informed of my less-than-capable state of late. "President Snow informed Effie that we should start getting to work on your talent."

"Shouldn't Effie be working with me, then?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"But what?"

"Well, what would you say your talent is, Katniss?"

"Hunting," I reply instantly.

"Right. Illegally. And I am not sure that is going to be a hit here in the Capitol. So I told Effie I'd work with you on a talent." I like that he gets straight to the point.

"What can you work with me on?" That sounds more sarcastic and pointed than it did in my head. "Sorry, Cinna, I'm just a little confused."

"It's fine." I just know he's shaking his head in amusement. "I was thinking I could help Katniss Everdeen on her brand-new talent, clothing design."

Design clothes? Me? Firstly, I don't know or care about clothing one bit (as long as it fits and it's comfortable), and secondly, I can neither draw nor sew if my life depended on it. "I'm not sure that's going to work, Cinna. Um…" I don't want to blurt out that I don't give a damn about any of this, because I know it will hurt his feelings, but all the same…

"Yes, yes, I know it is not really your sort of thing. It will just be for the cameras. I do the work. All you have to do is present it as yours."

I am shocked. "You can't… I can't…."

"Of course you can, and as for me, I want to do it. You are, after all, my favorite Victor. And I _want_ to design clothes anyway. It's a win-win."

He's able to talk me into it, of course. But I would have said yes anyway. Not only will I get to spend more time in the woods, since I don't have to worry about learning an instrument or reading, but I'll be able to talk to Cinna all the time, under pretense of working on my talent.

It's perfect.

* * *

Most of my days are spent in the woods. The best times are the Sundays when Gale is with me. About 95% of the animals we kill are traded for necessities that are brought straight to the Hawthornes. The remaining 5% are spread around town for any other families that are in need.

I still trade and hang out in the Hob. I like being there. They treat me almost like before, and Greasy Sae and Darius feel like family.

It is getting colder every day, and during the night, thin blankets of snow cover the ground. By midday, they melt, but this is not a good sign. Winter is coming, and whit it my Victory Tour.

* * *

_Hope you enjoy, and thank you! Reviews are always appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2 - Leaving

_A/N Reposted 4. january 2014_

* * *

**Chapter 2 - Leaving**

* * *

_Saw that dark cloud coming from a million miles away  
Oh, how I've dreaded this God- forsaken day_

Miranda Lambert feat. The Pistol Annies – "Run Daddy Run"

* * *

"I'm leaving tomorrow." Gale and I are sitting at our usual spot in the forest, and I've just made this announcement. I know I can't disappear without telling him, yet it's harder than I thought it would be to get the words out.

We're sitting close to keep warm. A cold mist creeps toward us, and frost covers the trees. Layers of snow coat the ground, sparkling in the weak sunshine. It's quite beautiful if you care to look, but my mind is elsewhere. I have been dreading the Victory Tour ever since Cinna called about my talent.

"They're coming to my house at noon." My words are followed by a long silence.

Gale continues to look down at the chilled cup of tea in his strong hands. "So, are you ready?" He always has something to say, something strong-willed and hard. He never holds back, especially in the woods, with just me as company. So the hesitance in his voice surprises me.

But then again, he hasn't gone off on one of his tirades for a long time. Is he monitoring his words because of me? Afraid of what reaction he will get if he brings up the Capitol or the Games?

"I don't think I'll ever be ready," I confess.

"Then don't go," he blurts out. "Just… run. Like we talked about before the Games. I'll go with you." He's speaking faster now. "And we can bring my parents and brothers and your mother and Prim, if you want. But we could leave."

"Right. 74th Hunger Games Victor and presumed boyfriend just go prancing into the forest the day before the Victory Tour. That'll work." I notice his hurt expression and soften my voice. "I have to, Gale, you know that. Don't turn this back on me."

"Sorry. Forget it. I just… I don't like it. You going… it feels like I'm losing you again." The words might only be normal conversation between friends, but something tells me there's more.

It didn't take long before I realized the relationship between Gale and I had changed. It was no longer the same as it was before I was reaped for the Games. At first I thought it was me that was the problem. That he was treating me differently because I was so fragile. But after a while, when I began getting better, more talkative, more energetic, I decided it couldn't be me. It was a new kind of tension between the two of us, which I hadn't felt before. Sometimes he even starts to lean over, as though to take my hand or stroke my cheek, but recoils as though he's thought better of it.

He's not done. "What about Peeta? Are you going to, uh…"

There's a first. Gale, lost for words.

I don't make him finish. "The star-crossed lover thing. I know. Haymitch wants me to keep on playing up the love story even now that the Games are over. He said they would let me go easier if I keep up the good story. I don't really get what he meant by "going easier," but I think that dropping the ball now would ruin their show, and I don't think they'd be particularly merciful if I screwed that up."

"But… do you actually…?"

"What?"

"Are you still going to be in love with him on camera?" He's looking past me.

"What if it's true? What if I am in love with him?" That gets his attention.

"Is it?" he demands.

"I… I… don't… no… uh, yes… I miss… I really… he was…" I can't finish, because, honestly, I don't know. He protected me, let me win the Games, on purpose. He knew the wound was fatal, that he would die before I did if he didn't get help. I didn't even have to lift a finger, but seeing him bleeding to death before my eyes… Do I love him for defending me, for letting me live? And the time in the cave?

But it doesn't matter anymore. He's dead.

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore," I whisper. "I don't like thinking about any of it. I'm afraid I'm going to lose it again."

Gale grabs my hand. "I won't let you"

* * *

I don't sleep well that night. Of course, I do not sleep very well at all these days. But the nightmares are even more realistic and harder to shake than normal.

In the dream, I'm sprinting through the woods, the trees on either side a blur. I can see Peeta in front of me, but I can't reach him. Behind me the others are coming. Cato, Clove, Glimmer, Marvel, the boy from Three, the boy from Four. All the rest of the dead tributes, thirsting for my blood.

I can see Rue up in a tree in front of me. I call out to warn her, to tell her to run, but now that I'm closer, I can see the spear through her stomach and her lifeless eyes.

Suddenly I'm in front of the Cornucopia and Peeta is lying by the water. The blood is spreading around him. So much blood. I run to his side, but I know before I reach him that there's nothing I can do to save him. I hold him in my arms. His blood is now dripping from my hands. I wake screaming whit the sound of the cannon ringing in my ears.

* * *

"It's a big, big, big day!" Effie squeals. She's watching as my prep team fixes my nails, applies makeup to my face, and curls my hair, all the while chatting about parties, food, clothing, and other Capitol trends. My former escort is clutching a small electronic device in her hand, mouthing times to herself and adding something up in her head.

"I know, Effie," I say, which earns me a light flick on the lips. "Hush," Flavius orders, "and stop moving." He blots off my lipstick, then reapplies it, this time thicker.

Octavia, Flavius, and Venia step back to admire their work.

"That will do," Venia declares. "Go tell Cinna, Octavia." Finally, someone I actually want to see.

A few minutes later, Cinna steps inside, politely averting his eyes as I tie a cloth towel around me. He looks almost exactly like last time; even the golden eyeliner is the same. He still looks perfectly normal, or maybe not for District 12 standards, but still...

"I've lined up all your prototype designs downstairs, and there is a real version of each of them hanging up in the portable closet," he says. "They will be up for auction sometime later." He picks up a clear bag, unzipping it and removing a gorgeous outfit. "And here is your dress. Do you need help?"

"I think so. Thank you so much, Cinna." I reach out and give him a big hug, surprising not just him, but also myself. I brush away a tear before it has time to spill.

"Steady now." He grins. "There are a lot of cameras downstairs waiting for you."

With a sigh, I drop the towel and let Cinna lift the dress over my head.

"Did I make this dress?" I ask with a laughing smirk.

"Uh, _no_," Cinna replies. "Your fabulous, amazing designer created this specifically for you, darling." He kisses me on the cheek. "Now, head on downstairs. I'm sure Effie is having a panic attack."

* * *

The interview about the designs is easily done, and they are wrapping things up for departure. Effie rushes me out toward the door. I can see thick, fluffy flakes of snow cascading down outside my window, and I want to ask for a jacket, or at least a cardigan. But then I see Effie, who is chatting animatedly with Cinna, wearing nothing but a thin, pale pink tank top and a matching tutu. Apparently, bundling up against the cold isn't a big thing in the Capitol. Or maybe they don't even _have_ cold in the Capitol.

Then I remember that Gale was supposed to show up an hour ago, and I begin to wonder whether he isn't coming. But then I hear, "Oh, you must be Katniss's cousin! It is _so nice_ to finally meet you. I saw your Final Eight interview, of course, but… goodness, how rude of me! I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Effie Trinket, and I'm Katniss's escort. Well, former escort, if you want to be technical. Are you here to see Katniss safely away? That's very kind of you."

I begin to run toward the door in the hopes of saving Gale from a very friendly Effie. But the polished hardwood floors of the house don't react kindly to the smooth soles of my shoes and I trip and skid toward the pair, crashing into Gale.

He laughs and untangles me. "Yes, as her _cousin_ I think of it as my family duty to look after her. Now, could I get a private word, please?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Effie checks her watch and then types something into her device. "Just don't take too long; we have to catch the train in exactly twenty-two minutes."

Gale smiles one last time at Effie, then takes my hand and drags me into a room at the end of the hall, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing with all his might.

"It's not like I'm going away to the Hunger Games or something," I joke, trying to make light of the situation. "I can't die this time."

"I know, I know," he assures me. "It's just, well, I don't know. That they can just come here and pull you away from me like this. I don't like it."

"Gale, don't." Relaying our true feelings about the Capitol out in the woods where no one can hear us is one thing, but in my house in the Victors Village with listening ears and cameras all around can bode no good.

Gale lowers his voice to a whisper. "Just keep safe and come back as fast as you can. And know I can't wait to see you again. Besides, just this and it's over, right, Catnip?" It's the first time he's used my childhood nickname since after the Hunger Games.

I wish it was just that simple, but it never is, is it? Of course they won't let me be. As the only female Victor in the District, I am supposed to mentor next year's tributes together with Haymitch. Then there's the year after that and that after that again. And they'll keep asking about Peeta and me, and how much I miss him and if I ever think about him. Gale and I will never get to be together anyway. Plus, we're "cousins." "Of course I'll come back, Gale. You know I'll come back."

I can see that Gale understands that I'm not expressing everything. He gets this frown between his eyes, as he does when he's thinking hard about something. Usually it's shortly followed by some harsh word targeting the Capitol. "I hate them. I hate them for taking you away, for hurting you, almost killing you. I hate them for making me hate you."

He hates me now? Is that what's changed between us? He can't stand the thought that I killed all those children, all those innocent people. If I'm fair, I shouldn't blame him. I can't really stand myself anymore either, but I guess I'm not fair. I was hoping that Gale, at least, could look at me without judging me. Without the look that says, 'I saw you kill those children. I saw it.' Wasn't it him who told me that killing people was no different than killing animals? "How different can it be?" were his words, not mine. But seeing me kill on the screen must have been different. He must have understood how heartless I really am. And now he hates me.

"Crap, Katniss, I shouldn't have said that." He must have seen the hurt in my eyes.

"No. It's fine. I'm glad you said it. You had to get it out. And now I really have to go; Effie's going to blow a gasket." I turn my back on him and move towards the door.

"Katniss." His voice is pleading and then he reaches out and grabs me by the arm. He whips me around so we're face to face, and suddenly his lips are pressed against mine. I blank out. I'm frozen still in disbelief. One minute he confesses that he hates me, and the next he is kissing me.

I can feel the heat from his body, and his free hand has come up to cup my face. My stomach twists.

And then there is a knock on the door, and we both jump apart.

"Yes, I'm coming!" I shout. I take one more look at Gale before I spin on my heel and run for the door.

Haymitch is standing there blocking it. He looks from me to Gale and back again. His face is hard to read, but I can see he's not happy. Maybe he hasn't forgotten the bucket of water I dropped on his head earlier that day to wake him, but I don't think that's the case. "We have to leave," is all he says before leading the way to the front entrance.

I swiftly follow him before Gale can do anything else.

My mother and Prim are standing outside the house, ready to say goodbye. A few others have also turned up. Greasy Sae and Darius from the Hob are there.

Hazelle, Gale's mother, is there too, with little Posy clinging to her arm.

Madge has also come by. She's the mayor's daughter, but instead of being popular, she's shy and quiet. During grade school, we'd made a habit of eating at the same table, silently and without making eye contact. But then we'd started talking, and I've found her to be a good friend and listener.

After hugs, kisses and a few tears I'm pushed into a waiting car that carries Effie, Cinna, Haymitch and me toward the train station. Standing at attention is a mile-long Capitol bullet train, that easily reaches speeds of 250 miles per hour, and can chug along at as much as 600 if needed.

Yet even with all the luxury, my heart sinks. I'm not looking forward to this trip.


	3. Chapter 3 - Tour

_A/N Reposted 4. jan 2014_

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Tour**

* * *

_Listen to me  
Keep your mind on the mission  
Remember you belong to me  
Come on, we should get it going  
Now what I want is specific  
You putting on a show for me  
The ruler and the killer baby_

Kid Cudi – "Ruler and the Killer

* * *

I have problems going to sleep. All the thoughts I have tried to suppress after the Games are coming back to me. I can't hold them back anymore. In the next days, I have to face everything that happened, whether I like it or not.

District 11 is our first stop. I'm supposed to say something about Thresh and Rue.

Rue was my ally. Maybe she was young, and a liability, but she made me smile and laugh and… oh, who am I fooling? She reminded me of my sister. And I'm pretty sure if she hadn't died it would have been me instead.

Thresh saved my life. He hadn't known me, probably wasn't even sure of my name, yet he agreed with me about debts. It was better not to have them. So he spared me, and then we were even.

But I don't know how to say these things to an audience. That requires words. Actual words spilling out of mouth and filling the people's ears. Words were Peeta's specialty. He kept the sponsors coming. He told them love. And showed it, too. I didn't do either.

I catch myself wishing he was with me, but it's pointless thinking that way. But I can't help combing through every detail of the Games in my mind. Isn't there _something _I could have done?

No, Katniss. There is one victor. One. There was nothing. _If you wanted to stay alive, Peeta had to die. _That's it. End of story.

But I should have known it was too good to be true when they changed the rules halfway through the Games. It would have been so much easier forgetting Peeta had it not been for the time when we had together in the arena. I should have let him die in the mud by the river and saved myself from this pain. I was stupid to believe their words so blindly. Yet I did. I believed their words because I wanted them to be true.

_Katniss. Stop. Now._

I think of Peeta every day. Ever since the Capitol hovercraft lifted his dead body up into the sky. I remember him sleeping in the cave, his forehead sweaty from the fever. I remember him down on the ground, watching me up in the tree. I remember him stumbling through the forest so loudly everyone in a mile's range could hear him. I remember him smile. I remember him in pain. I remember him with a wrinkle between his blue eyes. I remember him bleeding to death in my hands.

He's the only one who has ever confessed his undying love for me. He's the only one who has ever confessed _any _love for me, even if it was just an act. He's the only one I have ever risked my life to save. He's the only one I have ever kissed. No, not any more. I have to put Gale on that list as well now.

The thought of Gale isn't making it anything less complicated. We were so close for so long. I thought I knew him better than anybody else. But now, after the Games, he feels like a stranger. He was my best friend and protector, and now I feel like he can't stand being near me. It feels like I'm losing the only close friend I ever had.

He hates me now. But than he kissed me.

Being away from him is the only good thing about this disgusting Tour.

* * *

It feels as though I have only just closed my eyes when Effie knocks on the door telling me it is time to get up. Yes, I know, big, big day heading my way… again.

Effie almost screams when she sees me at breakfast. "Dear, what have you done?" she screeches. "You look like you have not been sleeping for weeks."

"I couldn't sleep. I was so… excited."

"Oh, dear Katniss. Of course you were. Don't worry at all. Your prep team can handle it." She pats me on the cheek and shoves a bowl of colorful melons at me. "Take a taste." She rolls a pale green one between her fingers before popping it in her mouth. "These ones will wake you up."

"I need a few minutes with Katniss before the prep team gets their hands on her," Haymitch declares. "Go through what will happen and when and where and why. It won't take five minutes. Bring your food, Katniss, and meet me at the back of the train, where the balcony is. You'll get a nice opportunity to see the rest of the country."

Effie claps her hands. "What a wonderful idea, Haymitch. The trip to District 11 is quite picturesque, so you two should get going. I will tell the prep team." She types a few words into her device and beams when a happy chime sounds.

I am topping up my plate and grabbing a mug of that melted chocolate liquid. When we're settled comfortably onto the huge window seats at the caboose of the train, Haymitch suddenly becomes much less bored and drunk and much more serious and sober.

"Listen to me. You are _not_ through with the Games yet. They want a show, and they want you to play your part, which, sweetheart, you've already screwed up."

"What do you-"

"Running off with your pretty little cousin is just that: screwing up their show. You need to play the part of a star-crossed lover, and you need to do it right. You miss Peeta dreadfully, and you need to show it. They'll know if you contact your cousin," Haymitch is looking at me to see if I'm following.

"He's _not_ my cousin," I snap.

"My point exactly."

"And there is nothing going on between us." I continue, as if I didn't hear his comment.

"Does he know that?"

I open my mouth to answer, but I don't know what to say. What does he mean?

"You have to have your head in the game. Give them what they want. The love story. Everyone with their head screwed on straight could tell that the boy was head over heels for you, but you on the other hand… you have to show them you loved him back as well."

"I know. I just said that."

"Maybe you did. But you didn't say it right."

I'm not sure what to say as Haymitch's statement really hits me. Was Peeta actually that infatuated with me, or was he was just a good actor? Both Haymitch and I know I cannot pretend to feel things that I don't feel. I'm not an actress. So why does he think that I'll ever be able to pull this off? He knows I'm not in love with Peeta, who, by the way, would have been splendid out there with the crowds and the cameras. I'll be lucky to get through this alive.

Haymitch continues like I affirmed his sentence. "In the Districts it won't be that big of a deal. The focus will be on the tributes from the respective District. For Eleven, Thresh and Rue. It's in the Capitol that the real challenge will come. For now, say what you are told, and beyond that try to keep your mouth shut as much as possible." That I can do. I'm good at that.

"Okay," I say, taking a deep breath.

He hands me a stack of note-cards from his inner pocket. "One for each District, ten for the Capitol. If you want to specially thank a tribute, speak of your experiences together or what he or she did for you. That's it. No gifts, no offers, no happiness. _You _are the Victor, and you are proud. Maybe you miss your allies, but _you _are the Victor."

* * *

I stand on the podium of District 11's Justice Building, looking down at the many faces of District as they glare back at me. I try to smile, I really do, but it feels more like a grimace. I give up, instead adopting a tough-as-nails demeanor and avoiding turning my head too much to either side. To my left an old lady who might be Thresh's grandmother is standing with a young adult, presumably Thresh's sister. To my right is Rue's family. Her mother and siblings stand staring at me, unconsciously leaving a gap where Rue almost certainly normally stood.

Maybe this District will be the hardest, because both of the tributes from Eleven helped me in some way. On the other hand, maybe not… What will it be like to stand in front of twenty other families of children I either killed or didn't save?

I gradually become aware that the mayor's speech is dwindling, and he's looking at me imploringly. It's my turn to say something. I step forward to the microphone, and read the pre-written card in my hand. The words fade from my head as soon as I have read them aloud. They mean nothing to me. They are not even mine.

It feels like some tension leaves the crowd when I walk back to my seat. They seem to feel… disappointed. But why? I know I'm not a good performer, but did they expect something more from me? I'm still wrapped in my thoughts when they lead me off the stage.

And then it suddenly hits me. They wanted to see the girl they saw singing for a dying Rue. The wanted to see the girl that covered her twelve-year-old ally in flowers. They wanted a girl who wasn't just a piece of the Capitol's Games. They wanted to see me, the real me. What did they get? A boring, uncommitted Capitol version of myself. As I figure this out, I realize that my chance has come and gone.

I realized too late what they wanted, and I'll never have another chance.

* * *

The days pass in a haze. By night, I'm haunted by nightmares of my fellow tributes, and by daytime, I'm forced to face their ghosts in the faces of their families and loved ones. I don't know what is the worst, the ones I remember and even have a name to associate them with, or the ones that I don't even recall, the ones whose names I never knew. How could I forget?

I remember random segments of my speeches: "Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever." "May we all give thanks to our glorious Captiol, and to President Snow, the most gracious man in our nation." "I am sorry for your losses." I always remember to say that now. Always. At least it makes me feel like I am doing _something_ to apologize.

I'm exhausted by lack of sleep, the psychological challenge of meeting the families and the constant feeling of being watched and judged. I constantly reflect on Cinna's kind words and encouragement, and Haymitch's not-so-nice but well-intentioned advice. I drift through the Districts, half-asleep, wishing I was back in District 12.

Wishing I was home.


	4. Chapter 4 - Interview

**Chapter 4**

_They will parade upon your victory  
They will parade upon your victory  
You'll put a smile upon their faces  
The world will be yours for the taking  
The story you birth will be ageless  
Just learn to love pain and be patient_

"_Devil May Cry" by The Weeknd__ from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - __Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_

* * *

Then there is the Victors' Interview. The last two days in District 2 and 1 have drained all the remaining fire out of me. I feel empty. Seeing the sorrow crossed faces of the families of the ones I killed with my own hands was, if possible, even worse than Rues siblings. I am thinking back at the old Victory Tours, and the smiling, triumphant faces. How did they manage feeling good about themselves and what they had done? On the other hand there have also been a few faces of shock or uncomprehending, and even someone looking scared to death. I remember one year from when I was very young. It must have been before my father died. The boy was so scared he wet his pants and ran of the stage.

"Katniss! Focus!" Haymitch is showing signs of the pressure himself. The longer the Tour is lasting, the more he drinks. Some nights that I have given up sleep and stood up to catch a cup of hot chocolate instead, I have found him sitting in the living room of the train. Bottle in hand, often wrapped in thoughts, his mined far away. Those nights we sit together, not talking much, but still sharing an understanding that only two who have gone through what we have could understand.

"The interview and the dinner, that's what's left. Now focus, so we can both go home and be left alone for the next half year."

Yes, focus, do this and go home to your woods, to Prim, to mother, to Gale. No, I am not thinking of him. Focus on the interview.

"You are a wreck. Use that. Say you can't stop think about him. That every day is a misery, for surely look like it."

"Thanks" I mutter.

"Try not to take all that misery away with makeup, Cinna, if you could be so kind?" Cinna sits in the chair next to me, and it is first now I understand Haymitchs attention bringing him to our prep talk. Cinna just nods, clearly they are on the same page. What page am I on? I wonder. Very close to the end, I hope.

"Katniss, can you repeat what I just said?" What? No, I have no clue what Haymitch did say next. I am looking up, question marks written all over my face. Haymitch sigh and leans his head in his hands. "We need a miracle." He sigh again.

…

"And her she is. You have seen her on fire, and you have seen her in love, but her biggest moment most have been winning the 74th Hunger Games. I give you Katniss Everdeen." The crowds are cheering and the bright lights are blinding me as I step on the stage. Cinna has done a marvelous job, as always. I am looking pretty, but sad. The entire world can see that under the pretty dress and colored cheekbone, there is this little girl weighted down by sorrow and misery. The crowd goes wild whit sympatric oohs and her and there some stifled sobs. They are all stretching out to this poor, lovesick, helpless girl they see on the big stage. Almost encouraged by Cinnas winning styling I try to play up the crowd by giving them a tiny sad smile. Even more oohs and aaahs.

"Katniss, Katniss, sit down, sit down" Caesar Flickerman leads me to the chair after giving me a welcoming huge. I sit down. "You look beautiful, as always, but something tells me you are not that spinning, giggling girl I meet in our first interview?"

"No, I'm afraid I am not." I answers.

"Let me guess, it is Peeta, is it not?" I just nod, pretending to brush away a tear. "You miss him don't you?" I nod again.

"Yes, I do." My voice cracks as I say so, most because of nerves, nevertheless it gives it a nice touch. I have never been good at this, and right now, I need all the help I can get. Thankfully, Caesar is as helpful as ever, and have set his mind to highlight the tragic love story. It goes by much easier then I feared. Caesar paints the events of the Games so clear in my head, by the time they show the replay of the last scene with a dying Peeta and me, I break down crying. That unleashes a choir of cry's and sobs from the crowd, and Caesar has to interrupt the program with some scenes form the Games, so the crowd gets the chance to calm down. By the time we are back there is not much time left. He only have time to wrap it up and send me away with hugs of goodbye and good wishes.

Safe behind the stage I meet up with Haymitch and Cinna. "How did I do?" I manage to crack out. I am out of breath and my head is spinning. How did I do? Did I do enough? Cinna hugs me "You did great! I almost became teary-eyed myself." He pats my back. I turn to Haymitch. He looks at me "Yes, very touching. Caesar was very good…" After a pause, he surprises me by giving me a hug "Not bad, Katniss, not bad."

…

The Victory Dinner is held at President Snows Mansion. I am overwhelmed by the many people in big colorful garments, heavy makeup and towering wigs. Not to mention the food. Table after table with food. I think they have every courses that exist lined up before me. How is it possible to have so much food at one place? There is no chance the people her can manage to eat it all. I think about all the hungry kids back home. The thought almost makes the sight of all this food sickening.

"I have someone I would like you to meet." Haymitch take me by the arm and drag me across the crowed floor. We end up beside a long table in the back of the room. I see at once that the people gathered around it are not from her. They don't have the Capitol look to them. I find this weird. I have seen almost none from the districts after arriving in the Capitol. Many of the faces looks familiar, but I can't quite place any of them.

"Oh, our newest recruit. Welcome to the club. We like to call us the Victors Club. We are quite exclusive, so feel free to feel honored about being welcomed in." The pieces falls in to places. I recognizes many of the faces from previous Games. They are all Victors. The one talking is of course Finnick Odair. I blush not knowing what to say. Why have Haymitch brought me to see them? I don't want to be any part of some exclusive Victors Club. I just want to go home and try to forget. Is it not what they all do? Why are they here?

I can see Haymitch reading my face, and before I can blurt out that I don't want anything to do with any of them, he say in a calm voice. "Katniss, as you know, as a Victor you are now supposed to be mentoring in the next Games. That means you will be seeing many of those people. I thought it was better for you to meet your future colleagues sooner than later."

I have not thought about that, but Haymitch is right. It will be much easier getting along with this people, rather than stamping on their toes the first chance I get. I send Haymitch a grateful gaze before smiling back at the group now facing me. They seems friendly enough towards one another. Although I don't trust ether of them one bit, and don't actually care to be a friend to any of them, it will sure make my life easier to play along.

I shake hands, smiles, say a few formal words and try to remember the faces and names, but soon it is all a big blur. I am thankful when Finnick twirls me away from an old Victor from District 10, or was it 9, saying something about a wasted party whiteout any dancing.

"So, gotten over your devastating heart break yet?" he smiles his sly smile. For some reason this angers me.

"Don't talk about Peeta like that. I did care you know." He stops and looks at me. A wrinkle forming between his eyes.

"I did not know that you did… …but may I ask in what way? Most of us are not Victors by chance. Maybe none."

"I… Peeta had as much chance winning as I did. If it had not been for his leg, he…"

"Do you really believe that? He surly did not think so. He had that "I know I have no chance coming out of there alive"-look in his eye. I have been a mentor for nine years now, I know that look. Peeta was too good to become a Victor. You on the other hand. If I could have betted, my money would have been on you." It's like a blow to the stomach. Cinna said the exact same thing, but in the mouth of Finnick it has a whole new meaning. Did all of Panam see that I was a vicious killer even before I knew I had it in me myself? Peeta to good, yes I know that, but has there never been a genuine good person winning the Games?

"Thank you for the dance." Finnick kisses me lightly on the hand before letting me go. "I can't hold you forever with all the other lovely people wishing for some of your time as well. You are after all the big star tonight. I will see you around." He gives me his cunning smile, and he is gone.

* * *

_A/N Thank you so much for every review, fan and follower! Reviews are always appreciated! _


	5. Chapter 5 - Home

**Chapter 5**

_You told me something  
That scared me to death  
Don't take me home  
I can't face that yet  
I'm ashamed that  
I'm barely human  
And I'm ashamed that  
I don't have a heart you can break_

"_Nothing To Remember" by Neko Case from The Hunger Games: Songs from District 12 and Beyond_

* * *

I am sitting in the back of the train, looking out. It is just a few hours before we reach District 12. I don't know if I am ready to go home yet, but on the other hand I am overjoyed to be done with the Tour. Is Gale going to be on the station waiting for me? Probably not, I think. Even if he wanted to be there, he is working in the mines. Why will he want to see me anyway, him thinking of me as a brutal killer? Tonight there will be a big party paid for by the Capitol. All the people of District 12 is invited, but that's tonight. In the meantime, people are living their usual lives.

Outside the windows, the forest starts to grow denser. It means it cannot be long before we are home. My stomach is knitting up in a tight ball. "Breathe," I say to myself. "He won't be there." Still by the time the train comes to a stop at the train station, my whole body is tight with anticipation.

He is not at the station, of course. A feeling of relief, but also disappointment, goes through me. I am a little angry with myself for working myself up like that.

Effie is at my arm. "Smile, dear, the cameras are still on, remember." She smiles and waves at the waiting crowd herself, trying to be a good example. I try to smile and wave happily myself, but I don't know if I am fooling anyone. How is this almost as hard has coming home the last time? I see Prim coming towards me. I push the thoughts away, and run down to meet her. At least I have her.

I am not going to the big district party. I am supposed to be attending the smaller dinner at the Majors Mansion. That's just fine with me. I get Effie to check the guest list, and Gales name are not on it, but to my horror Peeta's family is. The days dodging them is past.

Cinna helps me into the dress for the evening. This is the last night we will be together before he is off to the Capitol. "Hey, not the long face. You are back home, this is your evening in your own district. Try to enjoy it only a little. Think of the people out in the street eating their bellies full." He gives me a friendly hug. "We will be in touch, and I will see you soon. They have already asked me to be the stylist for District 12 in the next Games as well."

Madge comes in the door asking if I am ready. She is of course on the list of invited, she is the majors daughter and lives her after all. I am glad to see her and to know there will be some friendly faces in the crowed. With Madge on one side and Cinna at the other I feel almost ready to face this last event.

All the courage leaves me when I see the small group at the bottom of the stairs. Peetas family has just arrived. We all stop and just look at one another. It feels like days of silence before Peetas dad clears his throat, "Katniss, is it good to see you." He takes one step towards me and without any kind of hesitation he wraps is arms around me. He just holds me for a long time. "I am so thankful for everything you did for Peeta." he just says, and I can hear a shivering in his voice.

"But I… I could not save him." My voice is also tight. "I just could not do it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hush, hush, you did much more than anyone could have asked. Don't blame yourself."

"It could have been him, you know, him coming home and not me." I am for sure going to cry now if Peetas dad don't let go of me soon. I am blinking back tears, desperate not to let them spill.

Peetas father draws back and looks me in the eye. "No, Peeta would not have come back even if you did not. You are the only reason he did not die in the mud, or in the cave for that matter. You did all you could. We are glad you came back." I have never heard Peetas father say that many words in such a short time. Usually he is a man of few words.

I did not knew what to expect meeting Peetas family, but surely I had not expected this. His mother that usually is full of temper and rarely smiles gives me a short hug, and the same do his two older brothers I have never even spoken too. "Promise me to come by sometime. I'm still quite found of your squirrels you know" Peetas father whispers before they all head in the dining hall.

"That did go quite well, don't you think." Haymitch has come up behind me. I did not realize he was there before he spoke.

"Yes, it did. I don't understand."

"Maybe not everyone think of you in such bad way as you seem to think." After a pause, he adds with a smile "counting me out, of course. I know you are rotten to the bone, just like your old mentor." Maybe there is some truth to what Haymitch says, maybe we are more alike than I would like to think.

…

Coming home the second time turns out, after all, to be much easier than the first time. I can see the joyful, happy faces of the children from the Seam, the hopefulness only enough food can bring to starving people. For the first time, I feel good about being a victor. Maybe I winning could mean the difference between life and death for some of the people in the district. Every year I have seen people starve or freeze to death, maybe this year someone that normally would not make it will.

It's the morning after the District Party and I am lying in bed. It's been the first night without any nightmares. Instead, my brain has fed me happy pictures of children propping their mouths full with food.

The good mood lasts only for so long. I have not yet faced Gale. How can I feel good about myself when my best friends hates who I have become? Finnick's words comes back to me. _No one becomes a Victor by chance._

It is Sunday and I know the only right thing is to go to the woods. I have to give Gale the chance to be there, or not to. I have slept in late because of the lack of nightmares, and I'm already late, compared to what I usually am. Nevertheless I eat my breakfast painfully slow.

"Aren't you going to the woods today?" my mother asks.

"Yes, I'm on my way," I answer, deciding it is best to get going before the questions starts coming.

Although I'm not sure what is waiting, I feel better the moment I step into the forest. This is the one time I can be truly myself, the one place I have been completely happy. It's also the place that saved my family after my father died. As I am heading nearer to the place that is Gales and mine, I am starting to worry he will not be there. He is.

I am coming on him from behind. He is sitting with his hands wrapped around a cup, and there are residues of smoke coming from a small fire at his feet. The image is so familiar. Gale sitting peacefully looking out on the forest. He is also different her out in the woods, more at ease, faster to laugh.

"I began thinking you wouldn't come" he says whiteout turning around.

"I wasn't sure you would be her," I answer. He turns around with his familiar warm smile on his face. I can't help myself, and my face breaks into a smile of my own.

"Really? You worried I wouldn't be her? Give me some credit. I thought you knew me better than that." He makes room besides him so it is space for me to sit down next to him. "I brought some warm bread from the baker, but I'm afraid it's not hot anymore. That's what you get for being late." He pulls out some bread from a small bag by his side. We eat the bread and send the cup with hot tea between us. It feels so good to be on good terms with Gale. Something heavy has been lifted from my shoulders. It feels almost as the Games never happened, but just almost.

At one point we touch hands when we send the cup. He takes my hand in his and hold it hard. Then he lets go, the moment has passed, and he says something that makes me laugh.

"I can't remember the last time I heard you laugh." He says. "I think it must have been the morning of the reaping."

Yes, I remember that. We was laughing of the imitation of Effie Trinket. Anything other than laughing would just be to give in to the hopelessness. Would I have laughed that day if I knew Prims name would been drawn from the big glass ball? Probably not.

"May the odds…" I say

"…be ever in your favor" he completes. "I guess none of us are going to face the reaping again. Now there is just our brothers and sisters to worry about. It is Rory's first year, and I could not stop him signing up for tesserae." It's a dark sting to his voice.

I know what he feels. Watching Prim being reaped was my worst nightmare come true. But, now… Now neither Gale nor I have the chance to take their place if they are pulled. The only thing we can do is watch and hope.

Then there is me mentoring whoever is going to be the next tributes. I don't think the game makers care about any conflict of interest if my sister was to be reaped. This means I will still be mentoring even if it is my sister or any of Gale's siblings who are in the arena. The thought makes me sick.

…

We hunt down two turkeys, but don't have much luck with the snares. It's getting dark by the time we are standing outside the fence. We stop as we always do, listening. We only hear a faint hiss of the wind in the treetops and an owl hooting in the forest. Not a sound from the fence, and we crawl under. Gale first and me close behind.

At the other side he suddenly stops. I, not paying close enough attention, walk straight into him. I stumble, almost tripping over, but he grabs holds on me, preventing me from falling over.

"Why did you stop?" I look up at him, first now realizing how close we suddenly are standing. He has a distant look on his face. Not answering, as if his thoughts are far away. The silence stretches on, and I'm about to move or say something when his faces clears and he looks down at me.

"Catnip?" his voice is questioning.

"Yes?"

"When you said that "what if it is true" about you being in love with Peeta… Did you mean it?" This take my totally of guard. What does he mean by asking me? Has he been analyzing what I said in the woods that day? I said it most because I was irritated at him, but too be honest I don't know exactly what I fell about Peeta.

"I do, I mean, I did care about him, if that's what you mean."

"No, it's not what I mean. I know you cared about him. After him giving you the bread you could not help yourself."

"The bread? How do you know?" an image of a young Peeta out in the rain with the burned bread flashes before my eyes. How could Gale know about that? He could not have been there. He would for sure have mentioned that before. Would he not?

"Some years ago you told me about someone tossing you a bread when you was about to starve to death. I didn't know at the time that it was Peeta, but then you two talked about it in the arena. You said you could never stop owing him for the bread, and he asked if you meant the one from when you were kids. You said you would not have been there had it not been for that bread. I just had to add two and two together." I am just gaping at him. After a pause he continue talking.

"I remember being almost jealous of the one giving you the bread. I though, it should have been me helping you out. That's what we do."

At least I find my voice. "But you did not know me. We did not meet before sometime after, in the woods."

"Yes, yes, I know that, but neither did Peeta. You said so yourself. I think you have cared for Peeta, one way or another, ever since the day with the bread. He did love you, you know."

"Gale, it was just an act." When will people stop assuming he really was in love?

"You would be the last to know. You don't seem to have a clue about someone liking you or not. Take Peeta for example, or Darius… …or me."

"Darius and I are just friends..."

"And do he feels the same way?" This feels awfully like something Haymitch said about Gale.

"...and you" I just go on, pretending I did not hear what he said. "…you said you hated me."

He closes his eyes, breathing deep. "I told you I was sorry, that I should not have said that."

"But you did." I am feeling anger starting to burn inside me. Could we not just go back to the way it has always been between the two of us? Now it is just confusing. First, we are friends, then he hates me, then we are friends again, and now? "It was you that told me I had to kill those people, but it was different seeing it, was it? No one good ever wins the Games you know."

"Hey, hey, hey, wait up." He holds his hands up. "You think that is the why I hated you?" He looks into my eyes "You do, don't you." It is more a statement than a question. I can almost hear the hurt in his voice, but he only takes me in his arms and drags me close. "I hated you because I was jealous. I hated seeing you touch him, care for him, kiss him. I knew I was unfair, but I could not help it."

He is leaning closer now. "I just wish it was me, not him." He are only inches away by now. I can feel the heat from his breath on my face.

"Gale, stop" the anger has burned down. The fire in me is reduced to not much more than the remains of Gale's fire. "I'm sorry, I can't." I free myself from his arms, he holds on to my arm, but let it go when I drag it to me. At first I try to walk calmly, then I break into a light run, by the time I reach home I'm running as if I had a herd of mutts at my heel.

* * *

_A/N Thank you so much for every review, fan and follower! Reviews are always appreciated!  
_


	6. Chapter 6 - Friends

**Chapter 6  
**

_There's nothing that I'd take back,  
But it's hard to say there's nothing I regret.  
Cause when I sing, you shout,  
I breathe out loud,  
You bleed, we crawl like animals,  
But when it's over, I'm still awake  
A thousand silhouettes dancing on my chest,  
No matter where I sleep, you are haunting me_

_"Silhouettes" by Of Monsters And Men from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_

* * *

I don't see Gale over the next few days. It's not that weird, he is working in the mines and I'm out in the woods. It's the only place I can think clearly, the only place I can breathe properly. The woods are beautiful. Sun shining on the snow-covered treetops. The forest is alive with sounds of animals running close to the ground or up the trees, and birds are singing. It's not so cold as it was just a week ago and I can feel the sun warming my skin when I find a sheltered place in the sun to eat lunch. After eating, I drifts of, sleeping bad the previous nights.

I have had vivid dreams about Peeta calling my name. It is no more than a whisper in the wind, but I know it is he, and that he wants me to come. Peeta's voice leads me deep into the forest outside District 12, deeper than I have ever been before. The birds are singing a song, familiar to my ears, but I can't place it.

Suddenly I am finding myself in a meadow. A huge tree stands proudly in the middle. Peeta is hanging from the tree by a rope around his neck, still calling for me. The words to the song flows suddenly trough my head. _Are you, are you coming to the tree. _My legs moves on their own accord, bringing me closer to the tree and to Peeta. I think he is dead, but I can still hear his voice, or is it just in my head? _Where the dead man called out for his love to flee_. I am now so close that I can reach out and touch him. "Katniss! Katniss!" there is someone else calling my name this time. It is coming from the direction I just came from. Turning around I see Gale leaping out from the forest and starts running towards me. _Strange things did happened here, no stranger would it be…_ I look back at the dangling Peeta in the tree. His eyes which, just a moment before where closed, are now open. He's looking at me with a beseeching glance. "Please, Katniss, will you stay with me?" still it is just this soft sound, barely a whisper. …_if we meet up at midnight in the hanging tree. _"Always" I say just as Gale reaches me. "NO, NO, Katniss! NO!"

I wake with a scream, as always. The sun is still hot on my face. I must have fallen asleep. My body is stiff with cold, but my heart is racing in my chest and my hands are clammy. I walk around to calm my heart and to lose the stiffness in my body. It seems like the cold has taken hold of my body. A place by the fire and some of Greasy Sae's soup has an alluring sound to it. I pick up my bow and take one last steadying breath before heading through the forest.

…

Sunday is coming closer and I still have no idea what I want to say to Gale when I'm finally facing him. The easiest would maybe be to tell him I don't love him and never will, but it's not really an option. I know I could love Gale, in some way I already do. Although I don't know if it is just as a friend or if it is more to it. I have never given it a though, Gale and I being a couple.

When we meet I was a starving twelve year old, and he was in my eyes almost a grown up, even if he only was two years older. Need drew us together. We both saw we could learn from each other and that way we both would benefit. Time made us friends, but something more than that did I not imagine.

Then there is the whole other problem being with Gale. He would be in danger with the Capitol. I am just starting to realize how deep I am caught in the Capitols little games. They are never going to let me go. Seeing all the victors at my Victory dinner made me realize that winning only makes you a tool for the Capitol. I think it's a lifetime contract, with no cancellation right for my part. Can I drag Gale into it?

Haymitch made a fuss about how their love story would get a big scratch if I suddenly had a new boyfriend. Gale being my cousin is not making it any easier. How long can the Capitol hold me to my love for Peeta? My guess is an awfully long time. What could they do to Gale if he did something to upset their plotting? I am afraid they have no reservation about getting rid of him. I am afraid Gale would not be significantly afraid to defying them either.

And then there is Peeta… The images from the dream comes back to me. I have no idea what to make of them.

I am sitting on our front step cleaning my old hunting boots. I have lots of new ones now, but they are not as good for hunting as my old ones. Prim is coming from school and sits down beside me.

"Hey duckling, how was school?"

"Just as normal, nothing is happening, really. You've been out in the woods?"

"Yeah, just a small trip though. Got cold, and my boots needed new impregnation." We sit in silence for a while, me working, and Prim lost in thoughts.

"Katniss, have you and Gale argued?"

"What makes you think so?"

"I spoke to Rory at school today. He said Gale came home in a very bad mood last Sunday, that he would not speak of it, and that he has had a very bad temper ever since. You haven't been very cheerful yourself, ether."

"Gees, guess that's something new," I mutter, but this is Prim, I don't want to drive her away as well. I take a deep breath and say, as truth is "He told me he loves me".

"And you turned him down." It is not a question, more a statement.

"No or maybe. I didn't say very much, I guess I just walked away. I did not know what to say, I still don't know."

"Just tell him what you feel."

I sigh. "And there you have the problem. I don't know what I feel. And even if I loved him, I still don't know if we should be together."

"Why?"

"It's difficult" I dismisses the topic. I don't want to worry Prim about the Capitol interfering whit my life. She is too young to have to worry about things like that. Thankfully she lets it go.

"But you do love him." Again, it is not a question. "You know, everybody thinks you two eventually will marry."

"Ooh... They do?" She nods. This is news to me. I have never given it a thought. "But I have no plans of marrying anyone, and I am never having children, not while there is a chance he or she could be reaped for the Hunger Games. Never. I will not marry, period." How could people just assume I wanted to marry Gale? It angers me.

"Good to know" says a dry voice to my left. I look up to see Gale standing a few steps away. He is still in his work clothes and is covered in coal dust.

"Gale? Shouldn't you be in the mines?" I gape at him. It is certainly not a good timing for him dropping by. Dropping by? Victors' Village is not the place you just pas by on your way somewhere. It's on the way to, let's see, nothing? How long have he been there? How much have he heard? "What are you doing here?"

"Coming to see you, actually. They let us go early today. I don't really know why, and I don't care. It's not like I say no to some more time out of that damned mines. Can I sit?"

"Take my place, I was just leaving" Prim jumps up.

"No, Prim, you can stay. You…" I'm sending Prim a pleading look, begging her not to go.

"Oh no, I think I will leave you two to it," she says laughing before flitting through the door closing it with a soft click.

"Damn her" I mutter to myself.

"Happy to see me I can tell" Gale sites down beside me, I choose not to answer. "Not in the woods?"

"I got back early, got cold. I did catch three rabbits though. I went by your home earlier."

"Got cold? It's quite warm today, don't you think, how did you mange?"

"I feel asleep" I confess, still muttering down in my jacket, intensely dedicated to my boots.

"How come?"

"I can't sleep at night…" I peek up at him. He looks down on me questioningly. "Nightmares" I answer his unspoken question.

"The Games?" I just nod. It is not exactly a lie, usually my nightmares tends to be about the Games.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"For what?" we are facing each other now.

"I'm sorry for you having to go through all that hell. I'm sorry for not supporting you more than I have. I'm sorry for you having too live with all of this shit. I'm sorry I could not save you from going in there. And I'm sorry for last Sunday. I should not…" he drifts off.

"Most of those things aren't your fault, you know."

"Yeah, maybe." There is a long pause. "If you just want us to be friends, I can do that," he says at least. He is looking out over the empty houses of the Victors' Village. I get a stinging feeling in my chest.

"I would like that," is all I can say.

…

It has been a slow morning. The sun has long since risen, but I have not had any need rushing out to the forest. Prim is at school and my mother has gone to a family at the other end of the district to care for a sick child. It's been a couple of quiet weeks. Gale and I working on being just friends. But it's not how it used to be, not close. Maybe it never will be.

I'm looking out the window. It's a clear, sunny, peaceful day. The children are at school, and the miners are all down in the mines, starting in the early morning hours. If I'm to have any chance of getting around the snare line and still be home before dark I have to get going. Unmotivated I walk down the hall, stopping to take with me some iced cookies on my way. They no longer have the same beautiful decorations they used to have when Peeta was doing them, but I guess the taste is the same. I'm not the one to tell, I never had money to buy any back then. When will the thought of Peeta stop being so painful?

I'm just about to tie my boots when the alarm goes off. The alarm indicating a mine accident. I have no time finishing the ties and stumble in my hurry to get to the door. Just as the day my father died, I run for my life, head spinning and heart racing. That day, many years earlier, I was scared for my father. He is no longer around to worry about, but Gale is.

* * *

_A/N Thank you so much for every review, fan and follower! Reviews are always appreciated!  
_


	7. Chapter 7 - Mines

**Chapter 7**

_Up spoke, up spoke a mockingjay.  
Up from a willow tree  
Saying you had a father in the mines  
Who's gone this day from thee thee  
Who's gone this day from thee_

"_Daughter's Lament" by Carolina Chocolate Drops from The Hunger Games: Songs from District 12 and Beyond_

* * *

At first there was only me running through the empty streets, but as I'm getting closer, there are more and more people running in the same direction. Some with ropes, lanterns, shovels and medical equipment, but most are just running in desperation, like me, to find their loved ones.

The Peacekeepers are already in place putting up ropes to keep the crowd at some length. Miners are coming out of the mines. The ones that were on the higher levels are already out and searching the crowd for their families, to calm them down. Everyone is hoping, but fearing the worst. I can't see Gale. My eyes run over the miners all covered in coal dust and with serious expressions on their faces. No Gale in sight. The only thing I can do is wait for the next group of miners coming up.

I can feel someone at my side, it's Prim. "Katniss, I'm scared" I hug her close to me.

"Hush, it's ok. It will be ok." I whisper, not knowing if I am trying to comfort her or myself. I can hardly hear the people around me because of the drumming in my ears.

I see my mother and Hazelle in the crowd not fare away. I point them out to Prim, and together we begin working our way through the gathered people. Some are crying, other just standing staring at the entrance to the mines. The ones already finding those they were looking for are hugging and kissing each other. Emotion is running high among both the ones waiting and the once happy reunited.

We reach the others and I hug Hazelle tightly. She just hugs me back. We both know what is at risk. We both know what the other fears the most. If I am scared, I just have to look at Hazelle and her three children. What will it mean for them loosing Gale? They have already lost their husband and father.

It goes a nervous shiver through the crowd, followed by screams and high voices from the ones that have spotted a familiar face. A new group of miners has come out. We all turn as one, looking for Gale's tall figure, but no Gale is to be seen.

I have been reacting instinctively until now. I haven't stopped to think at all, but now it's no more I can do. I have no idea how long it can take to get all the survivors out. It depends on where the accident is, and how much of the tunnels that are blocked off. I have heard stories of miners who has been saved days after an accident. If they are closed inside a tunnel, they can survive as long as they have enough oxygen. The question is if somebody can get them out in time.

After my dad died in the mines I've been scared to death of the black tunnels and the endless underground shafts. Before the Games I often had nightmares seeing my father down in the mines, sometimes blown to smithereens by an explosion, sometimes being squeezed to death by big rocks and sometimes just falling down in one of the dark holes, never to return to us. The images from my childhood nightmares starts flashing before my eyes, but now it's not my father I see, it's Gale.

The time drags by, painfully slow. I can see it's not only me that is hunted by bad memories. My mother is breathing heavy and her face is as pale as a ghost. I have to get her out of her, or even better get her to do something, before she goes hysteric. I spot Darius standing by the barriers, watching to see that the waiting people stay behind the lines. I run to him.

"Darius! Are you expecting wounded?" he looks at me, I can read much of my own emotions in his face: shock, fear, sorrow. Even though you don't have anyone close in the mines, accidents always upsets the whole district.

"Katniss, I so sorry. I know you are worried about Gale, but I don't…"

"No, I wasn't asking about Gale. Yes, of course I'm shit out scared, but I wondered because of my mother. She needs something to do. Are you preparing for wounded? Can she help?"

"Yes, Yes, of course, I'm sure they need everyone the can get. You can send her over there." He points to a nearby house where people are running around like ants, busy working and getting supplies. I nod a "thank you".

"Mother" she wince when I touch her shoulder. "Darius asked if you could help preparing for wounded that may come. They said they could need your help" a little lie can't hurt no one.

I can see my mother cling to this specific task. This is something she can do. Somewhere she is needed. She has always coped better when she could help someone by doing what she can.

Prim looks up at me, I can see she is thorn between going with our mother and staying with me. "Go with her" I say, "Watch over her, and you can surely be of use yourself." She is still hesitating. "Go, I will stay her with Hazelle and the children" she nods, agreeing, and they both disappear in the direction I guide them.

Then there is only this hopeless, dreadful waiting again. It feels like the time is standing still. Everything happening around me seems to be happening in slow motion. Nothing matters, except for the moment to come when I will see Gale again. If he is coming… If…

The opening to the mines seems to grow darker, as if black smoke inside is devouring all the light. Or is it just my brain playing me a trick? I don't know. My vision starts to blur. I have been staring at the same point so long my eyes has become moist. I have to look away so the forming tears won't fall.

I remember the day my father died sitting like this, looking, waiting, hoping. It feels like the memories belong to a different girl, and maybe they do.

I'm still holding a watchful eye on the entrance of the mines. It's been a long time since the last miners came out, and thinking back, this is not a good sign.

The crowd is thinning out. Families that are reunited is returning to their homes. There is nothing they can do here, anyway. The only thing they can do is to give the ones still waiting room. The sun is getting low on the western sky, and the shadows are growing longer.

I feel hysteria starting to build in my body. I have managed to stay calm for some time, but I can feel that this will not hold much longer. Every fiber of my being is twisting and turning, shouting at me to run and scream, to loose myself in the despair that is crushing down on me.

I glance at Hazelle. I'm overwhelmed by her calm, strong, caring nature. She is a heroine in disguise. You can't tell that she is at the edge of braking down by looking at her. Posy, only four years old, don't understand what is going on, but can feel the tension and anxiety and has started to cry. Hazelle is lulling her softy. The boys understands more, and I can feel their fear. Hazelle is their rock, talking calmly, telling stories, doing everything she can to take their minds away from the unthinkable, that their big brother will not come home to them.

What use am I? I can only watch and admire her strength, only wishing to huddle down into a ball and scream my head off. But I don't. I look at Hazelle and tell myself I cannot break down. She has more than enough already, not adding me to her screaming children.

Then he is there. A small group of miners has just appeared at the opening. He looks tired sweat running down his face making lines in the dust and coal he is covered in. He is half supporting, half dragging a fellow worker, but someone runs over to release him of his burden. Other than exhausted he looks unharmed.

A long suppressed scream forces its way up my dry throat. Hazelle hears my scream, looks up and see Gale as well. I see then how much she has suppressed her feelings. Her eyes flows over and with no words, she gives Posy over to Rory and runs for her eldest son.

I try to rise, but my body is not responding. I try again and this time I manage to climb unsteadily to my feet. Hazelle has reached Gale and I see them hugging each other. I walk toward them, suddenly scared of disturbing their personal reunion. A few meters away I stop feeling slightly uncomfortable, like someone spying on a highly personal meeting.

Gale looks up to see me standing there blushing, not knowing if I should go or just stay put. He carefully frees himself from his mother's grip, whispering something in her hear. She let him go, standing back smiling.

This is my cue. Suddenly nothing can hold me back and I throw myself in his waiting arms. "Gale" it is no more than a sob. I try again. "Gale, I was so scared". He holds me tightly.

"I'm sorry for making you worry," he mummers down into my hair. "Now you know how I felt all the time you were in the arena," it is half a laugh and half a sob.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I don't know what to say. My head is spinning, all the panic pilling up, realizing into me body. I find myself standing on my toes and forcing all the things I'm feeling, but can't say, into me kissing him. He stiffens, but just for half a heartbeat, before kissing me back.

* * *

_A/N Thank you so much for every review, fan and follower! Reviews are always appreciated!  
_


	8. Chapter 8 - Letters

**Chapter 8**

_Sister, hide our love away  
From the evil we both know  
It can see us through these dark days,  
Though they seem to darken as I go.  
Our love will see us through these dark, dark days sister,  
'Til it lights the way back home.  
Sister, hide our love away._

"_Dark Days" by Punch Brothers from The Hunger Games: Songs from District 12 and Beyond_

* * *

I'm leaning into Gale's embrace, resting my head back against his shoulder. I can feel his deep steady breathing softly ruffle my hair. I let myself relax against him. It feels good. We are both looking out into the woods. It looks exactly the same as it used to, but here, at our old spot, everything is different.

"This, I mean us... It won't change what we had before, will it? I mean the hunting, us, a team… Looking after our families together?" I stutter a little. I won't ruin the comfortable good mood between us, but I had to ask. It has been on my mind almost the entire time since our first kiss. Can this damage what we used to have?

I can feel him smiling into my hair. "No, Catnip, it won't. Promise." His fingers caresses the back of my hand sending tingling sensations up my arm. He drops his head to my shoulder and I can feel his hot breath against my neck.

"I love you," he whispers against my neck. Kissing the sensitive skin under my ear softly. Warmth spreads through my body, both from his words and his soft touch. "You don't have to answer me, but I've wanted to say that for a long time." He trails more kisses down my neck, making me arc my back giving him better access.

"For long? How long? I thought you understood when I went away for the Game. Just like I did when… when the accident… You know… " My voice is barley a whisper, but I know he heard because the sudden tightening of his grip around me.

"No, I knew before. Maybe half a year before. Darius was teasing you at the Hob, wanting to buy one of your rabbits for a kiss. I didn't want him to kiss you. I felt almost jealous. I don't know how long I've been in love with you, but I understood that I was that day." He lifts his hand up to trace a line down my face with one finger. Tentatively he turn my head against him so he can kiss me full on the mouth. I lean against him, feeling utterly happy.

…

"Katniss! There is a letter for you on the kitchen table. It came by this morning," my mother is somewhere on upstairs calling down to me. I haven't even have time to take my boots off, before both she and Prim is standing in the doorway awaiting my reaction. A letter? I never gets any post.

"Aren't you going to open it? It looks important," I can see by the looks on their faces that they have been discussing what it can be, and that they are dying for me to open the letter and release them from their curiosity. "Where have you been, by the way?"

"Out" I answer cryptic. "With Gale."

"Kissing?" Prim asks, grinning from ear to ear. When did she decide to try out the annoying little sister concept?

"None of your business," I hiss at her, sounding a little like Buttercup, but ruffling her hair to take the sting out of the words.

After the mine accident, they had to close down the mine to secure the affected tunnels, resulting in Gale suddenly having a lot of spare time. We have been out in the woods together most of the time, kissing maybe a small part of it. Feeling as I'm about to blush I hastily focus the conversation on something else. "So where's this letter you are talking about?"

It's a formal looking, a thick envelope with my name and address printed on the front. I turn it around with a growing feeling of discomfort. There is no return address. Instead, there's printed a small rose. For some reason I don't want to open the letter while my mother and Prim is watching.

"Looks like something from the authorities, maybe it is about me mentoring. I'll be in my room," I grab the envelope closely to my chest and almost run for the stairs. I must tell myself to slow my walk and try to look calm. I don't want them to know I have a bad feeling about the letter.

"But…" my mother starts, clearly disappointed, but I don't hear what _the but_ is, because I have already closed the door behind me.

Well behind my closed bedroom door, I open the letter. My hands are shaking a tiny bit, and I almost cut myself on the paper. Taking a studying breath, I manage to tear it open.

"Information about the upcoming 75th Hunger Games" is printed in fat letters on top of the first paper, and underneath says: "To all registered mentors attending." I breathe out. It was nothing to work myself up for, just this letter going out to all the mentors. I make a mental note to go see Haymitch to see if he too has gotten it. Something catches my eyes, a note in bold letters saying, "Remember seeing President Snow announcement of the Quarter Quell live to all of Panam next Sunday at eight o' clock." I sight. What kind of twist is it this Quarter Quell? I guess I will find out this Sunday. It's surly not going to something nice.

I'm about to put it away to read it through later when a small envelop, which has been stuck in between the pages of the letter, falls to the ground. It has my name on it, and when I turn it around it has the same rose at the back. I know before I open it, that this is what I didn't want my mother and sister to see.

Inside is a simple black and white photo. For a moment I blink blankly at it. It's me and Gale kissing, surly taken at the day of the mine accident. What does that mean? I turn the picture around and freezes. In a squiggly handwriting there's written something at the back of the picture. "I am so reviled to hear that no harm came to you cousin in the tragic mine accident in your district. Someone dear can so easily be lost in such unfortunate events. It would be hard on you losing yet another so close after the loss of your dear Peeta. Best wishes President Snow" I'm having problems breathing. My previous assumptions regarding the Capitol not being scared of killing Gale seems to be about right. The message is as clear as crystal; being with Gale equals a dead Gale.

I'm clutching the picture in my hand heading down the stairs again. "Just going out, will be back soon," I'm shouting at the direction of the kitchen while tying my boots. I'm out of the door before I can get any response.

A few seconds later, I find myself standing at the stairs to Haymitch's house. After knocking tree times without any response, I just let myself inside. It's as filthy and messy as always, looking like it hasn't been cleaned in months… or years. Something that's probably not far from the truth.

I find Haymitch in his usual chair, with a bottle in hand, as always. It has become a familiar sight over the last months. In front of him lies an identic letter to the one I just opened. I guess it arriving has not had a positive impact on Haymitch's pathetic state. He seems even more out of it than he usually is. I can imagine that the letter arriving is another reminder of yet another year of watching children being killed on his watch.

All the chairs are covered in dirty clothing. I clear one by shoving everything on it to the floor. "I see you also got the letter," I say sitting down.

He looks up at me for the first time. "I didn't hear you knock. It's rude, you know, tumbling into some one's home without even knocking on their door."

"I did knock"

"Guess I did not hear… And you're here because… ?" he is definitely not in his best mood. Of course, he has never been the friendliest person I know.

"President Snow did send me a personal… greeting," I say, tossing the picture on the table for Haymitch to see. He try to focus. I can see something dangerous flash in his eyes. He skims through the note.

"I did warn you, remember." Yes, I remember, but that is suddenly not making it any better. It is still hard to breath, and I'm starting to feel prickling in my fingers. The panic is starting to get a grip on me.

"Yes, yes, I do, but what now. What can I do? Haymitch I can't go to anybody else about this. You know that. You know… You know what they…"

"…are willing to do?" he finishes my sentence for me. "Yes, I know." The silence that followed is only interrupted by Haymitch's loud gulp each time he takes a sip from the bottle. I'm starting to see Haymitch's lonely, alcoholic life in a different light. What was the Capitol willing to do to him and his loved ones? Is it by choice he have no one close? Have he driven them all away for their own safety?

As if he can see my unspoken questions, he says, "I don't really have a bright solution for you. They killed my family without the warning part." I let my head fall down into my hands. What a mess.

…

Gale is furious. I curse Haymitch for luring me into thinking that is was a good idea, coming clean about everything to Gale. "Let the boy make up his mind about the risks and decide for himself how much he wants to put on the table," he had said. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I know Gale, I should have predicted his reaction.

We are out in the woods. I can't think of anywhere in the district where we are safe from being observed by the Capitol. Gale is walking around aimlessly. Stopping only to shout about how the Capitol have no right coming here telling us how to live our lives. "Isn't it bad enough to have us starving, working to death and to sacrifice our children for their enjoyment?" Of course I agree with him, but I have to calm him down, make him see sense. We can't openly defy them, that will just mean death.

"Gale, think about it," I'm pleading. "It's not just you and me. It's your family as well. Think about Rory, it's his first year of reaping. I don't think they have any difficulties fixing the reaping so whoever they wants gets picked. Just look at how many of the children of previous victors who are reaped to the Games. What if they take it out on Rory," at least I'm reaching in to him through the fierce anger. He stops in his track.

"They can't do that, can they." But it's not really a question. I see in his eyes that he believes my words to be true. Gale is extremely dedicated to his family, and like me, he would go through fire to protect his younger siblings. I knew this could be my trump card, and it seems I was right. He lets his hands drop to his sides and breaths out as in defeat. "Catnip, what are we going to do?"

"Gale…" I reach out to stroke his face gently. He puts his hand over mine to keep it there. "Maybe it's best not to see each other… You could do so much better anyway, you can pick and choose from every girl our age. None of them will set you family at risk like I do."

His eyes gleams dangerously again. The furry still burning high in him, only subdued for the time being. "I don't want anyone else, you know that. Don't talk like that."

"But we can't be together, Gale!" I'm almost shouting at him now. "I would rather not be with you than see you dead!"

"So let's keep it a secret. As long as they don't know anything it will be ok. And when everything has calmed down and the Capitol loses interest in you and the star-crossed lover story, then maybe we can…" he drifts off, hugging me close to him.

"Yes, maybe," I mumble into his chest.

"How long can they keep you to that story anyway?" he asks kissing the top of my head. _Forever?_ I think, but I see n reason saying it aloud. This is a start. Gale could have been even more difficult to convince, but he is scared for his family if not for himself. At some point, I'm also relieved to still have Gale. I was afraid I would lose him, although I know this is selfish. The few days since the mine accident has been some of my best, even counting the time before the Games.

On the other hand, he would be better off with somebody else. This I know to be true, even if he can't see it. Being with me is not just dangerous to him and his family, but I'm also an unstable wreck. I don't really knowing who I am anymore nor what I'm supposed to do with my life. I have seen the looks I get on the street. They look at me as if I'm a ticking bomb that can blow up at any time. Maybe they are right for all I know.

How long can I claim Gale's love when I have nothing to give him back? I can't openly be with him. I don't want marriage or kids, even if we could. The thought of Peeta still lingers in the back of my mind, making me feel almost guilty for being alive and happy with Gale, while he is… while he is dead and buried. But when Gale leans down to capture my lips with his, I push all the confusing, difficult thoughts of my inner conflicts and what is to come away. I just lean into the kiss. Enjoying the feeling of his closeness. His lips against mine, and his warm body pressing against me.

* * *

_A/N Thank you so much for every review, fan and follower! Reviews are always appreciated!  
_


	9. Chapter 9 - Announcement

**Chapter 9**

_And I will stay up through the night  
Let's be clear, won't close my eyes  
And I know that I can survive  
I'll walk through fire to save my life  
And I want it, I want my life so bad  
I'm doing everything I can  
Then another one bites the dust  
It's hard to lose a chosen one  
_

_"Elastic Heart" by Sia from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_

* * *

That night before the mines open again, I see Gale die in numerous ways down there. By the time morning comes, I can barely hold myself back from storming over to his house begging him not to go back there. But I don't. I know it would only be stupid and could only do more harm than good. As long as we are inside District 12 Gale is no more to me then my cousin. _You do best in remembering that_, I tell myself, it has to be the fourth or fifth time today I tell myself exactly that.

I dare not go to the woods, afraid something would happen when I'm away. Instead, I go over to Hazelle. I wait until I'm sure Gale is long gone. The hunt has gone been poorly the last few days, and if I'm not hunting today either I have to persuade Hazelle to take some money as a compensation. That will to be a lot easier with Gale long gone.

Hazelle opens the door only seconds after me knocking, and invites me inside with a tired smile. Only a few days with the mines closed and no real income can mean starvation for people in the Seam. One look at Hazelle and I understand that me coming with money was a right decision.

"I'm sorry about you and Gale," she says when we are both seated by the kitchen table.

"Did he tell you?"

"I don't think he told me everything, but he told me enough."

"I'm sorry I'm causing you trouble." And I really am. "But if I just stay in line, and do what they want, they can't harm any of you." At least I hope so. I have to believe that, or else there is no meaning left. I have to behave for my loved ones sake. That is all I know to be true. "I brought you some money, and I'm not taking no for an answer. Tell Gale to go to hell if he finds out and get pissed. It's the least I can do for you." She does not argue, just takes the pouch and puts it away in a drawer.

"They will announce the Quarter Quell this Sunday. Please try not to worry too much about Rory." I try to smile reassuringly.

…

Of course, nothing happens in the mines that day, and not the days after either. I'm starting to breathe a little easier every day, but it's still a blessing when Sunday comes, and I know Gale is safe outside the mines. We meet up at our usual place in the forest.

It would have been a much better day if the upcoming announcement had not being hanging over us like dark cloud. What kind of devilry are they going to come up with this year? A thousand possibilities has gone through my head the last few days. What if there were going to be even more tributes then at the last Quarter Quell? Or they could bring every tributes best friend as "motivation"? Or maybe they will have the chosen tributes in each district duel each other to death for the right to enter the Arena? I can almost hear President Snow's cruel voice in my head "in remembrance of that, in the Dark Days, even your best friend could be your worst enemy…"

For most of the time, we are hunting in silence. Gale could feel my dreadful mood miles away. We are heading back early to be home well before eight. He takes my hand, and I hold on to him for my life. His firm grip helps me to relax a little. As long as we have each other, at least we are not facing the cruelty of the word alone. But when we are closing in on the fence, we both slip the others hand as on cue.

Before we are in sight of the fence, he kisses me softly. "Maybe it's best you go first. I will see you again next Sunday." I understand what he means. We are sure to run into each other in the District, but it will not be the same.

…

On my way home, I step by Haymitch. I'm determined to drag him by the ear over to my house. He agreed earlier this week to watch the announcement together at my home, but he wasn't very happy about the arrangement. I'm surprised when I find a mostly cleaned up Haymitch almost ready to go. I can smell the faint smell of alcohol on his breath, but he is much more sober than he usually is.

"Okay, let the fun begin," he says with a grim smile.

My mother and Prim have made dinner for all of us, and since it's still some time left we sit down to eat. The silence is overwhelming and seems to be crushing us all to bits and dust. I'm barely eating, just pushing the food around on my plate.

"Aren't you going to eat that?" Haymitch suddenly question makes me jump. He has cleaned his own plate and is sending sidelong glances at mine. I shrug as I push it over to him.

"Unlike many other in this depressing District you have enough money for food, you know." I say dryly.

"Yes, yes, but then I have to go out and buy it, don't I? And even if I do, it's not half as good as this stuff." My mother blushes and mumble a thank you even though I see she's not really sure if it was a compliment or not. After shuffling some more food into his mouth, Haymitch says reflectively. "The food is the only highlight on the yearly Capitol trip." Any other conversations dies with that.

Well in time before eight we are gathered around our TV-screen. One of the usual crazy looking announcers are speaking enthusiastic about the upcoming announcement. She is eager to hear what amazing twist it will be this year and can barely sit still on her seat. "It is after all a Quarter Quell, so it has to be wonderfully exciting! After last year's heartbreakingly beautiful Hunger Games, they have to outdo themselves this year."

I'm standing up ready to leaving, not bearing to hear any more about how amazing the Capitol think it is to watch innocent children kill each other. It's much worse when I have been there myself. I see the images of the dead tributes in my head. What were they? Nothing more than a bit of fun? Haymitch take me by the arm and force me down again before I have time to leave.

"You have to learn to take that piss. You are going to hear it repeatedly as a mentor. How wonderful it all is. Over, and over, and over again. And you are going to nod and smile, because that is what they expect you to. Best to start working on that, don't you think, sweetheart?" His eyes are shining in the dim light. _How does he cope?_ I wonder. And the answer hits me. Alcohol. Simple as that. How am I going to cope?

"And now, what we all have been waiting for, I give you President Snow." We all turn our attention back to the screen. There he is, President Snow, standing on a podium before a big cheering crowd of Capitol citizens.

"I have the great pleasure of introducing this year's Hunger Games. As all of us know this is the 75th Hunger Games indicating a Quarter Quell. After the horrors of the Dark Days, our ancestors made the Hunger Games. The Games should make sure that our history would be remembered, and learned from in generations to come. When the laws of the Games where laid out, they decided to make every 25th Games a special anniversary, a Quarter Quell. The Quarter Quells would be glorified versions of the Games to keep the memories of those who were killed by the rebellion fresh in mind. On the seventy-fifth anniversary" there is a pause while President Snow receives an envelope and opens it slowly, before reading the words aloud "as a reminder to us all that even the youngest of children was exposed during the Dark Days, the tributes are going to be reaped only amongst the children by the age of twelve."

He continues to speak, but I don't hear what he's saying anymore. I just catch his last sentence "I wish everybody happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour."

I can't think clearly. Only the twelve-year-old kids. What does this mean? The first clear though that comes to me is a highly selfish one. Prim is safe. She can't be reaped. Something heavy lifts of my shoulders only to come crashing down again by the next thought entering my head. Rory! Rory is twelve, and has already taken up tesseras, making him one of the most likely to the reaping.

Rory is not just Gale's little brother, he is practically my own brother. My friendship with Gale has also made me care for his younger siblings. Gale, how is he facing this turn of events? Not good, I think. How am I going to face him, knowing there is a chance I'm going to follow his younger brother to slaughter. Of course, it was a slight chance before as well, but the odds has suddenly become much worse for him.

Then there is this whole other aspect of it all. How can they condemn 23 twelve-year-old kids to death? It seems even more inhuman than sending older kids, but is it? I conclude that I think it is. I have always hated seeing the youngest ones being reaped. I think of Rue, so young, so little. This year it will be 24 Rues in the Arena. And I will sit on first row to watch them die.

None of us has said anything yet. I don't think any of us have even moved. It seems like none of us had thought about this possibilities. Haymitch is again the one the break the silence.

"Guess Finnick's old record isn't going to stand much longer."

* * *

_A/N Thank you so much for every review, fan and follower! Reviews are always appreciated! _

_ImaginationStation00: Thank you :-D To your question, since there is no uprisings (yet), there have been no need of sending new Peacekeepers or public whippings. For the time being that is not going to happen (I'm afraid, or glad, or something). The Quarter Quell twist is out, though, and reaping is up next chap._


	10. Chapter 10 - Reaping

**Chapter 10**

_A tricky thing is yesterday we were just children  
Playing soldiers  
Just pretending  
Dreaming dreams with happy endings  
In backyards, winning battles with our wooden swords  
But now we've stepped into a cruel world  
Where everybody stands to keep score_

"_Eyes Open" by Taylor Swift from The Hunger Games: Songs from District 12 and Beyond_

* * *

Reaping day. How could this day possibly get any worse than standing on the square in front of the stage waiting to hear the names, worrying if it will be yours? Sitting on the stage and looking down on all these children are definitely much worse. I would have taken a hundred more reapings myself not to be on the stage.

The children lined up for the reaping is just much fewer than it usually is, only one out of seven. Some dozens of small, frightened twelve year olds. I spot Rory in the crowd. I look over to where I know Gale and the rest of his family is standing. He's looking straight ahead, tension written all over his face.

Something feels different this year, and I don't think it's only me. The whole atmosphere is even more tense than previous years. Reaping only twelve year olds isn't kindly welcomed in the District. I have heard people mumbling about the Capitol that, and it's far from blessings. People are angry. It's a growing dissatisfaction that I have never felt before.

At my right side Effie clears her throat and stands up. It's about to begin. I'm crouching low in my seat, wishing I was anywhere else. On my other side, Haymitch is barely present. Far away in a drunken slumber. Effie has reached the microphone and starts talking. It's the same speech as always and I tune out.

I'm looking back at Gale. He is looking at me and our eyes meet. I can see the desperation I'm feeling myself reflected in his eyes. It's his first year standing on the sideline looking, not able to do anything. It's getting to him. I know that, like me, he would also have chosen the reaping for himself than this painfully standing-by watching.

…

The last few months have been nothing but painful. I have fled the District as much as possible. I can't stand running into any of the small twelve year olds, nor their parents for that matter. Gale has been in an awful mood. Moments away from break out in range towards the Capitol at any time. Everybody around him has been walking on needles, knowing it wouldn't help if he blows up. He is angry at everything they do, but mainly at the Quarter Quell and their interference in our relationship. The normally so strong Hazelle has also let the stress go to her. I found her crying one time I came by. It was the first time I have ever seen her cry.

Sundays has still been the best days by far. Gale seemed to relax a little out in the woods, and the hunting made both of us busy thinking about something else.

The last Sunday before the reaping, almost a week ago, I decided to take him to the lake where my father used to take me. I had never taken him there before. It was an amazing day. A warm, sunny summer day. The forest was alive with sounds, a hundred different singing birds filling the air with song. I swam in the lake. Gale, never having had the chance to learn how to swim, sat on the edge with his feet in the water while watching me. We lay in the grass side by side feeling the hot sun on our skin. We ate, we laughed, we kissed. For a few hours, we almost forgot about everything else, and we were just happy.

When the evening came, none of us wanted to go home and we decided to stay the night in the cement house, although it meant a horribly early start for Gale the next day to reach the mines in time. None of us thought about our families being worried to death because we did not come home, or maybe this one time we did not care.

I remember the feeling of his hands on my bare skin. Surprisingly nervous at first, hesitating. I lost my self in the feeling of his touch. Absorbing the sensation of his soft lips and the heat radiating from his body. His warm skin under my fingers. The overwhelming closeness. It was the first time for both of us.

The only fly in the ointment was late in the night when I woke up screaming after one of my usual nightmares. Gale was awake. Looking at me with pain in his eyes. When I asked what it was, he answered that he didn't like seeing me hurt. I believed that to be true, but I could feel it was more than that. After pressing him about it, he confessed I had been calling out for Peeta in my sleep. "Will he always stand between us?" he had asked. I had no answer for him.

…

"Ladies first" this draws me back to the present. Effie goes over to the big glass ball with the girls' names. Slowly she picks up a paper, and prance back to the microphone. "Laraine Arterberry" she calls out. I look out over the crowd. I can't place the name. The crowd splits and a girl steps forward. She has the Seam look, with brown hair and gray eyes, just like me, but her clothes and her friends at her side tells me she is not from there. I can tell she's scared, but she puts up a brave face and walk to the stage. Effie claps her hands, but otherwise it's silent except for some muffled cries somewhere in the crowd. The girl has reached the top of the stairs. Our eyes meets and I can see she's fighting back tears. She is looking to me for support, and suddenly it hits me that this is my task now, to support them. I give her a small nod, trying to tell her to keep strong, that it's smart of her to keep her emotions at bay.

"Come here, dear," Effie guides her to where she is supposed to stand. "And now for the boys." I breathe deep and close my eyes. I can hear Effie walk over the stage and back. "The boy tribute is…"it's a small pause while she unfolds the paper "Tad Huddleston". I breathe out, angry with myself for almost feeling happy about not hearing Rory's name.

Tad Huddlestone, I know that name. A vague memory of two small children, about four or five, flash across my mind. Then I see him. Yes, I remember him now. He lived not far from us in the Seam. He and Prim used to play together outside our house when they were younger. I think they lost contact when Prim started going to school and he didn't until a year after.

It looks like he has gone into shook. He just stands there, not moving. "Come up her, dear," Effie says sweetly, but the boy doesn't move before he gets a nudge in his back and almost trips forward. With some guidance from one of the Peacekeepers he manages to get up on stage.

"And here you have them, this year's tributes Laraine Arterberry and Tad Huddleston." It goes a movement through the crowd and almost as one, they all kiss their middle three fingers and raise them towards the sky. It happens just as the year before. Before anyone on the stage has time to react, we are being hushed of the stage and towards the Justice Building, away from the crowd. It seems like the Treaty of Treason is forgotten, or more likely neglected. Has this become the new way of saying goodbye to the poor chosen ones?

Laraine and Tad is taken to separate rooms for their goodbyes. Haymitch and I are left to our self, but not for long. Two Peacekeepers comes up to us and tells us to follow them. We are escorted into a waiting car. I try to protest. I said I would meet Gale and my family to say goodbye after the ceremony. My objections are roughly rejected, and soon I find myself at the back of the car on the way to the train. My heart aching.

* * *

_A/N: I understand that some believed Rory to be reaped. I didn't want that to happen because I want to have focus on Katniss. I was afraid putting Rory in the Games would take too much attention. Hope you liked the chapter. It was a bit shorter than usual, but I hope the importance of it makes up for it :-)_

_I want to thank you all for every review, favs and follows! It means the world to me! I appreciate you telling me what you think!_


	11. Chapter 11 - Glory

**Chapter 11**

_Some far away  
Some search for gold  
Some dragon to slay  
Heaven we hope is just up the road  
Show me the way Lord, because I am about to explode  
Carry your world, I'll carry your world  
Carry your world, I'll carry your world  
Call your world and all your hurt_

"_Atlas" by Coldplay from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_

* * *

I'm looking at the two scared twelve year olds sitting in front of me. What am I going to do with them? They don't have any skills remotely useful for the Games. My only hope is that the other 22 tributes are as frightened and useless as mine are. There must be something I can do. I can't give up before it has even started. _Get a grip, Katniss_, I tell myself, _you have to do everything you can to help them! _And I will, that much is clear to me.

"Maybe this year won't be a career year. There have never been so young career contestants. They can't have had the same time training as the older ones. That is sure to be a good thing." I say, trying to lift the spirit. Right now it's low I can nearly see it smoldering away before my eyes. I look to Haymitch for support, but he just shrugs, looking actively away. _Thanks a lot, Haymitch._ Has he given up already?

I think back to exactly one year before. Then it was me sitting in one of the chairs they do now. I thought I had gotten myself a one-way trip to the Capitol. I take a closer look at the two tributes. No, Laraine and Tad, that's their names. Not acknowledging their names is just like writing them of already, and I have decided not to do that.

"We have a long train ride ahead of us. I can start by showing you some basic survival skills, like what to eat and not to eat. I can show you some basic snares. It's also a start if you just pick up a knife or even a bow, so that the first time isn't in the Arena." I kick Haymitch under the table.

"Yeah, sure. That will be a start." He just says. Oh, gosh, he has given up.

…

After dinner, we all gather around the TV to watch the recap of the reaping in the other Districts.

I have spent all my time trying to stuff as much information into Laraine and Tad that I possibly can. In return I have learned that Tad is a fast learner. He can pick up even the smallest pieces of information in such a fast time. He's kind of heart, but has more spirit than I first gave him credit for. On the other hand I'm not sure if he has it in him to kill someone.

Laraine is an outgoing girl. She has a sharp tongue and strong opinions. I was right about her Seam look. Her mother was from the Seam, but married into one of the richer families in the District. She has lots of friends and is, as I understand, a natural leader. With a little help from Haymitch she can do great on the interview. She will for sure fit many of the numberless angles Haymitch tried on me, to no use. The more I learn about the two the more difficult it will be to see them die, but I push the thought away. Maybe I can bring one of them home!

"It is starting. Hush down everyone." Effie says in an excited voice, even though none of us has made the slightest sound.

It starts, as usual, in District 1. My mouth falls open when the first girl is called and at once another calls out to volunteer. _What is she thinking?_ I don't understand. I can't wrap my mind around it. Likewise happen to all the tributes from District 1 and 2 and the boy from 4. All volunteers.

Do they want to die? They are only twelve year olds. They should be scared to death by the thought of going into the Games. Then it hits me. They don't think they are going to die. They only see the possibility of winning. The honor, the glory, the prospect of being the youngest victor ever to win the Hunger Games. The sparkling crown of at the end is all they see.

"You saw this coming, didn't you?" I ask Haymitch. He only nods, but I can see the tension between his eyes.

The rest of the tributes pass in a blur. All so small and fragile. Only some of them I remember. The girl from District 8 I remember because she seems even smaller than the rest, if I had to guess I wouldn't have thought she was more than seven or eight. The boy from District 10 has to be dragged away from a screaming woman who looks to be his mother. The boy from two I have a strange feeling of having seen before, but that can't be, and I dismiss the thought. The girl from six also sticks out because she's so tall and walks clumsy.

District 11 is up. A girl with big brown eyes and a boy who I can see is fighting back tears are called. Then it happens. It is only a small glimpse in the background when the two tributes are about to walk off the stage, but it happens. In the background people start raising their hands. It's our sign from District 12. The one I used to say goodbye to Rue, the one my own District gave their tributes as a last goodbye. I didn't know it was used in other Districts as well. I know it wasn't meant to be seen. It should have been cut before broadcasted to the Districts. Somewhere in the Capitol I'm sure the one clipping the replay is getting a scolding… or worse.

After eleven, it's only our own reaping left. I notice the sign of last respect from the crowd is safely cut. After it's all done we're all quite down, maybe except for Effie that is just her usual oblivious self. She pushes Laraine and Tad of to their bedrooms. "It's a big, big day tomorrow, off you go, you two." And Haymitch and I are left sitting by our self.

"How did you know?" I ask. He understand what I mean.

"You have always been a bit naive, sweetheart. You don't see the glory. The glory is the only thing they see. To them it's just a big game. To you it was all about staying alive."

"How are we going to get one of them home?"

"Chances are high we don't." He answer. I should shout at him, tell him to pull it together and at least try to help them, but I don't. I'm drained. _Tomorrow_, I tell myself_, tomorrow I will make Haymitch see sense._

…

Tomorrow comes. After a night with nightmares about dozens of young children killing each other with knives, sticks or with their bare hands. I'm not really in a fit state to mentor anyone, but I don't really have a choice.

"Haymitch, can I have a word," I ask at the first sign of him, determined to shake him up now rather than later.

"Yes, sir," he says. He follows me into an empty room and closes the door. "You come to lecture me about how I should make an effort holding these kids alive? I'm surprised you didn't do it before. I was ready for the bucket last night." I gape at him. "So come on…" he makes a ridiculous gesture indicating himself ready for combat.

"It's not a joke, you know!" I almost shout at him, anger overwhelming me.

"Oooh, I know that, I do." He says.

"They deserve our help. We are supposed to help them. You can't just give up."

"That's where you're wrong. They don't deserve our help. They _deserve_ not to be in this bloody mess. But they are. And at the end, it's nothing we can do about it. I have learned long ago that the simplest way is not to give the poor souls to much hope."

"But what about last year? What about Peeta and me? You did help us, and I did make it!"

"But you were different! These two are just like the rest. They aren't going to make it!" We are both shouting now. Trying to make the other see sense.

"You didn't really give us a chance at first either. You can at least try!" He looks at me for a long time. His face is totally clear of emotions. After getting to know Haymitch, I know though that he has his most empty expression when he's really thinking something through.

"Okay, okay, I will do it," he says at last.

"Good," I say before going to the door to open it. Outside I see Laraine, Tad and Effie standing motionless. One look at their faces and I know they have heard. Effie is looking shocked, but it's Tad's face that draws my attention. Determination is forming in the young face. Up until now, I have only seen my little sister's childhood friend, but now… he has grown many years older in just a few minutes.

"You said you could show us how to shoot with a bow. I would like to try that," he says. Laraine, who up until now has been the leader, just nods in agreement. I agree at once. Breakfast can wait.

…

Tad and Laraine looks just as thunderstruck as I felt, when they looking upon the Capitol the first time. Seeing the towering buildings, the dolled up people and the extreme luxury is still making me sick to my stomach.

"Wave and smile. I'm sure you can do much better at that than your young mentor her," Haymitch instructs. Is this how it's going to be the whole time? He insulting me in every other sentence? I sigh, but at least he has come with the first helpful advice. That's an improvement.

"Oh, we are here! It is going to be so exciting. First, we are going to our apartment, and then you are off to see your stylist. I am so looking forward to see what Cinna has planned this year. I am sure it is amazing! Everyone is wearing his designs these days!" Effie says positively gloving.

"Don't worry, Cinna is one of the best the Capitol has to offer," I whisper under my breath to a less than happy looking Laraine.

…

The year before I found myself being striped and cleaned to my skin was raw. This year it seems like no one cares how I look. It suits me just fine. I'm left to wait. It's tiresome, but when Haymitch is of the see Chaff, a mentor for District 11, I decline his offer to go with him. I'm soon enough going to face the other mentors, no matter if I want to or not.

I get a pleasant surprise when Cinna shows up early, and we get a chance to catch up. Right before he is about to go, he runs to get a garment bag for me. "I know it is not you that is in the spotlight this year, but I thought it would not hurt the sponsoring if they remember who those children's mentor is. Do not hide from the cameras. You showing yourself will only be helpful." He winks at me, and disappears.

It turns out to be a beautiful black dress, with faint flames flickering along the length of the skirt. Cinna is trying to make sure no one forgets I was the girl on fire. I, on the other hand, can't wait for that fact be forgotten, and to forget it myself.

* * *

_A/N Thanks for reviews! Appreciate it very much!_

_ImaginationStation00: Yes, the stylist are Cinna and Portia. The stylist and prep teams are the same as in the book. It's also the same Arena (with some small adjustments), because all of this was planned before the QQ twist was announced. But Seneca Crane is still head Gamemaker because he didn't screw up the last Games (Katniss didn't save Peeta with the berries). Everything around the Games is pretty much the same as in the books (only other contestants of course)._


	12. Chapter 12 - Pieces

**Chapter 12**

_Take my hand and my heart races  
The flames illuminate our faces  
And we're on fire  
Blow a kiss to the crowd  
They're our only hope now  
And now I know my place  
And now I know my place  
We're all just pieces in their games_

"_Just A Game" by Birdy from The Hunger Games: Songs from District 12 and Beyond_

* * *

The Tribute Parade went smoothly. Cinna and Portia had dressed up our two tributes in a clever design highlighting how young they are, but also giving them an edge. They had long veils blowing behind them like smoke, twisting and turning in the wind just like real smoke from a fire would.

Training days consists mainly of waiting. I do quite a few interviews. It's not my thing, but I make sure to wear Cinna's dress and try to put up an eager, hopeful face concerning my two tributes. The war for the sponsors has begun, and I know it's here I have the most chance to be of any help. After the private training sessions, Laraine gets a six and Tad a five. Not good, not bad. Everything about mentoring the interviews, I lay entirely on the shoulders of Haymitch and Effie. I know my limits.

All the waiting around gives me a lot of time to think. The memories from last year becomes much clearer now that I'm back in the Capitol. We are in the same apartment in the Training Center as we were the year before. At the start of the second day, I start to see Peeta everywhere. Siting by the table where we ate dinner, in the big soft sofa in front of the TV-screen, walking down the long hall to our bedrooms. I'm desperately longing for home, and for Gale. Everything here hurts.

At one point, I can't stand being in the apartment any longer. The memories are becoming too painful. I hurry over to the elevator and push the button for the ground floor.

Standing in the lobby I have no clue what to do next. Where am I going to go? My goal was to be out of the apartment, but now… I have never before been her alone, always being escorted on my way.

"Looking for someone? Me, maybe?" I jump at the sound of the purring voice coming from behind me. I turn around to see Finnick Odair leaning casually against the wall.

"No, I…"

"Don't be shy. I know every female loves me, you can't help yourself." The self-loving smile on his face angers me to no end, but I bite my teeth together and hold my tongue. "Since you're surely no exception, I'm taking you as my date to the Tribute Interviews tonight."

He must have seen the look on my face. "And I'm not taking no for an answer." He gives me his winning smile. Is he joking with me? Teasing me? I can't tell. "I will see you here at seven. Okay?" and he's gone before I manage to say anything at all.

What did just happen? Am I going to show up? Finnick isn't exactly my first pick for a date. Sure I can see he's good looking, but I'm in no way attracted to him. I think he's full of himself and I don't like the way he flirts around with the women off the Capitol. On the other hand, are there any of the other victors I rather spend the Interview with? I have to face my fellow mentors one time or another, and tonight's going to be my ordeal.

It's still a long time until seven, anyhow, and I guess Haymitch and Effie will be busy working with Laraine and Tad for a long time yet. I end up walking out into the street.

The sounds and smells are different from the ones back home. Even the air I breathe feels strange. I feel utterly alone and I miss home. I miss my old simple life. Before the Capitol. Before the Games.

Suddenly I become aware of people staring at me. I should be used to people staring by know. Back in District 12 people on the street keep sending me long gazes when they think I'm not looking. Here it's different, though. It's the way they are looking at me. Enthusiastic looks filled with excitement and admiration. I can hear them whispering elatedly to each other. "It is her, is it not?" or "Look, it is Katniss Everdeen, do you not see her?" Going outside seems suddenly as a very bad idea. I turn around to hurry back and almost stumble over a small girl standing right behind me.

"You are Katniss, are you not?" she looks up at me with big shining eyes. She must be about twelve, just the same age as this year's tributes. "I was cheering for you all the way from the beginning! Look! I have braided my hair just like you do! Can you write a greeting for me in my book? The others at school will not believe that I actually met you!" the words flows out of her mouth. Before I can answer, she has pushed a small writing book, covered in flowery decorations, into my hand.

"You can write it to Suzanna." And I do. She jumps up and down with joy and presses the book to her heart when I give it back. "Thank you so much" and she skips away in her bright pink dress with the braid dancing on her back.

She loves the Hunger Games because she's never in danger of the reaping. She thinks of it as fun. An exciting event once a year. She could never understand what it's really like. How all the people in the Districts are dreading the very same event. Cursing it when there's no one to around. How we all are scared to death every reaping because we fear for our self or for our loved ones. She has no clue that it is actually a question of life and death. She has never thought about the parents that will never see their children again. And she never will.

…

I end up meeting Finnick at seven o' clock. He takes me by the arm as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Oh, the Capitol will love this. Their two favorite Victors side by side." He seems so at ease. So comfortable with the situation. How could he? Tomorrow we will witness the bloodbath of these children we now shall see. Maybe it's years of practice? _Or maybe that's just how he is…_ a small voice in the back of my mind whisper. _He's the Capitols pretty boy, remember?_

"I don't know. I think they still want to see me deeply depressed about Peeta. President Snow made it clear that…"

"I like playing with fire," he interrupts me, something flickering in his sea green eyes, and for the first time he seems to be utterly serious. It lasts only a moment, and then his cunning smile is back in place. It happens so fast that it gets me to wonder if I only imagined the sudden flicker of opposition in him.

"Hey, Johanna." Finnick has spotted someone, and starts dragging me across the room. "Johanna! I don't think you've met Katniss." I find myself standing in front of a slim young woman with short, brown spiked hair. I remember her. Johanna Mason. She won the 71th Hunger Games, four years ago.

"Finnick did you have to drag her along?" she asks in a venoms voice. Her gaze goes to our linked arms. "Seriously Odair. You could do much better. What will Annie say?" _Annie who? _I think.

"Aah, you know me Johanna." Finnick is still smiling brightly. "Can't you try being nice for a chance?"

"Aah, you know me Finnick." She smiles devilishly, turns on her heels and starts striding away. "Are you two coming or not?" she shouts over her shoulder. Finnick looks at me and shrugs. We both follow.

"I don't think she's your greatest fan." Finnick whispers in my ear. _Oh, I think I can live with that. _

"I don't think like her particularly well either." I answer.

"I heard that!" Johanna glazes back at us, meeting my eyes for the first time. A small smile playing at the edge of her mouth.

…

The mentors have a section reserved for them at the far right from the stage. This way we can easily slip back and forth to see our tributes. The tree of us sit down after a long hold up in front of the cameras. Finnick was right. They loved the sight of the two of us together. We were photographed and filmed a number of different angels before they let us move one. None of the other Victors was anywhere near as popular with the media-crowd.

I can't spot Haymitch. He must be of with Laraine and Tad giving them some last advice. At least I hope that's the case and that he's not just wasted somewhere. Finnick's off seeing his own tributes one last time and I'm left with Johanna. O joy! Luckily, she turns the other way and faces another mentor I have a vague memory of meeting at my Victory dinner. Cecelia, maybe?

I can tell it's not long before showtime. Caesar Flickerman has entered the stage and a woman is making small adjustments to his makeup before the cameras begin rolling. Images of Cato, Glimmer, Rue and Peeta flashes before my eyes. All smiling at the cameras, trying to make one last impression on the crowd. Look how much that helped them in the end.

Finnick slips down on the seat next to mine again. "Showtime." He grins at me.

And it is. Caesar starts the show with a few welcoming words and a joke that makes the Capitol audience buckle over in laughter. I notice that none of the previous victors around me as much as chuckles. The first tribute, the girl from District 1, enters the stage. Sweetly looking, but with a poisonous glare and a sharp tongue. After her, they follow one after the other. Soon the names and faces becomes a blur in my head, and I can't remember on from the other.

Again there is something nudging at the back of my head when the boy from two gets on stage. I'm sure now that I have seen him before, but where?

"So, Caiden! We all know your brother don't we?" At Caesars words, it suddenly accrues to me. He's Cato's younger brother. I saw him on my Victory Tour sitting at the podium with the rest of Cato's grieving family.

A shiver runs through me. Wasn't seeing your own brother torn apart by mutts scary enough to never wish for something like that for yourself? But he did volunteer! At the age of twelve. Only one year after losing his brother to the Games. Did his family support this? Is he here to revenge his brother, or only for his own glory?

I don't think I ever will fully understand the mindset of the volunteering tributes. _Ehm, the career volunteers,_ I correct myself. Volunteering was exactly what I did, but that was different.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Laraine Arterberry from District 12" My mouth falls open the moment Laraine enters the stage. It's almost like looking at a young version of myself. She's dressed in an identical dress to the one I wore the previous year and her hair is braided. Cinna has also worked on the makeup highlighting our similar futures. She has the Seam look, just like Gale and me, and no one had problems thinking the two of us were related.

"Oh, not again" I hear Johanna hiss under her breath.

"I had nothing to do with this!" I hiss back at her.

"Of course you didn't, sweetheart." I jump at Haymitch's dry voice behind me. "You have no idea how to work a crowd intentionally. Unintentionally, on the other hand, you are fire." He chuckles a little of his own joke.

"Clever. She's going to profit from being associated with Katniss," Finnick is looking thoughtful at Laraine who is laughing at something Caesar just said. "She's an outgoing, witty version of Katniss."

"Yes, exactly! Look and learn, sweetheart. Maybe she can draw from you, but you certainly have something to learn from her as well." Haymitch and Finnick are smiling and Johanna has to stifle a laugh, surely at my behalf. But of course they're right. Laraine works the stage brilliantly, funny and charming in a way I could never be.

"Laraine, Laraine. How is it working with the great Katniss Everdeen? I must ask, are you in any way related, you look so alike?" Laraine laughs sweetly.

"No, we aren't. But she's a great inspiration. I have looked up to her even before she won the Games. Can I tell you a secret?" she's slightly leaning towards Caesar as if she's going to whisper him a secret. Smiling innocently, but with sparks in her eyes.

"Oh, please do. I am sure everyone is dying to know."

"She is going to lend me her token from last year to wear in the Arena!" she says and claps her hands in excitement. The entire crowd is clapping and cheering with her.

_Am I?_ I think. Shit. I don't even think I brought my pin from last year. Come to think of it, I have no clue where it is.

"Yes, you are." Haymitch whisper in my ear and at the same time drops the golden mockingjay pin into my hand. It's just in time before the cameras find my face and zooms in on it. I smile as brightly as I can, lifting my hand to hold up my golden pin for the cameras.

"Oh, would you not love to see Laraine receive the token right now." Caesar beams. "Come on Katniss, come up her." Oh no! But I can't decline. I stumble to my feet and send a mental thank you to Cinna who helped me lay on some makeup earlier this day. He must have known! I grind my teeth. Why can't they include me in their plans? Especially the ones that concerns me. But I swallow my anger, and smile.

Caesar hugs and guide me over to Laraine. On Caesar's insistence, I attach the pin to Laraine's dress before hugging her. We are both waving and smiling at the audience when the buzzer goes off, indicating that Laraine's time is up.

We make our way of the stage and I manage to whisper a good luck to Tad when passing him. He's a sweet kid, he will manage fine with Caesar. Right now, I'm going to find Haymitch and rip his head off.

…

We're all back at our department, and Laraine and Tad are guided off to bed by Effie. My anger has calmed, but I have no desire to remain in Haymitch's company, so I take off. It's our last night here. Tomorrow all the mentors will move into apartments in the building where the Games is controlled. From there we're going to follow our tributes, speak to possible sponsors and possible send gifts into the Arena.

There's one place I know I have to go before we're leaving. My feet finds the way almost before my brain does, leading me up the stairs to the roof. By the time I reach the top of the stairs, I'm almost certain I'm going to see him standing there. His dark silhouette highlighted by the light from the streets below. He will be looking out over the Capitol, where celebrating people are dancing in the streets. Just like he did this exact day one year ago. Of course he isn't there. I'm never going to see him again.

I walk to same place as then and lean over the railing to look out on the lights and the happy, dancing people far below me. But this time I'm alone on the roof. No Peeta is standing beside me. Still I can almost hear his voice in my head.

"_I don't know how to say it exactly. Only... I want to die as myself. I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not. I keep wishing I could think of a way to...to show the Capitol that they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games." _

Back then, I didn't understand what he meant. More than just a piece in their Games? A piece in their Games... In the end, I think we all are.

I think of Peeta bleeding to death in my arms, but I couldn't think of anything I could do stop him from dying. I think of Gale and me never having a chance of a normal life together, but there's nothing I can think of that can free us from the Capitol. I think of the small children I saw on the stage lined up to die, but there's nothing I can do to save them.

We're all just pieces in their Games.

* * *

_A/N I struggled with this chapter, but in the end I'm quite happy. I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for favs, fallows and reviews! It means a lot :-)_

_Ellenka: Thank you. I want to show the heartbreak, so it means a lot that you think I mange that! And yes, people in the districts isn't happy…_

_ImaginationStation00: Thanks! Black as in mourning, but also because it's a strong color, and the color she was wearing when she was on fire in the parade. So many interpretations :-) Yes, you were right about Caiden being Cato's younger brother ;-)_


	13. Chapter 13 - Launch

**Chapter 13  
**

_Everybody needs a prayer, and needs a friend  
Everybody knows the world's about to end  
Everybody wants to know what the end will be  
Everybody wants to look before they leap  
Everybody wants to sip of wine to drink  
Everybody wants a little more time to think  
Everybody needs a reason why they run  
Everybody wants to know what they're running from_

"_Lean" by The National from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_

* * *

I'm standing on the stage in front of the Capitol audience. Caesar's asking me a question, but I can't hear what he's saying. I try to ask what he said. My voice drowns in the laughter from the audience. I turn around to run away, but my path is blocked by Tad and Laraine and behind them their fellow 22 tributes.

Suddenly the walls around us is starting to fade, revealing a beautiful open meadow. The sound from the laughing crowd is fading as well, and I can hear the blowing of the wind and birds singing. The grass is green and there are flowers growing everywhere. Yellow, red, pink, purple, blue. Every color bright and shining. The wind is ruffling through the grass and makes the flowers dance in the light breeze. Over us, the sky is blue and the sun is shining so brightly it almost hurts my eyes. The only thing that's ruining the almost paint-like landscape is the black towering Cornucopia a few feet away from us.

I look down and see that I'm standing on a metal plate in the ground. The gong sounds and I know it's kill or be killed. But I can't move my feet. I can only stand and watch as the twelve year olds tributes starts running at each other. Ripping and tearing with their bare hands. Kids begins falling dead to the ground and blood is coloring the grass and flowers. Dark red blood, almost black. In seconds, the meadow is filled with corpses of young children. Staring empty at the blue sky with dead, blank eyes.

I can't see anyone still alive, all I can see is motionless bodies. And blood. Blood soaking the ground. A movement at the corner of my eye catches my attention. A small girl in a pink dress is dancing over the corpses. Her feet light as feather. She's barely touching the corpses, and her shoes are pure white without a drop of blood, even though the thick dark blood is covering everything. In her hand, she is holding an open book. My name is written all over the pages. My name, written in letters of red blood.

…

I can't shake the dream away. Even at breakfast, images of the dancing girl is still printed at the back of my eyelashes. Haymitch and I, having said our goodbyes to Tad and Laraine the day before, are sitting alone at the table. Everyone else is off making the last preparations.

Our job now is meeting with potential sponsors, but the first official sponsor meeting isn't scheduled for another hour. It's not before the bloodbath is over, though, that the real money is starting to tick in. No one's interested in putting too much money on a child that could be dead before the first hour's up.

We are both quiet. Haymitch has helped himself to a bottle with clear liquid inside. I'm pretty sure it's not water.

"No, It is a big, big day. We have to get going." Haymitch pathetic imitation of Effie almost brings a smile to my face. It remember me of Gale and me out in our woods, making fun of Effie as well. What else is there to do? Haymitch's mocking tone makes me see the similarity between the two of us, not for the first time.

…

Meeting the potential sponsors was overwhelming. I felt like I was watching people at a market discussing the prizes of animals to trade. Too rich people betting on the life of children. Of course everyone knows it's a big part of the Games, but seeing it up close is something entirely different.

Whenever some of them speaks to me, I open my mouth to find I can't get one single word out. Luckily Haymitch handles the situation much better than me, having done the same for the last 25 years. He steps in and takes over the conversation whenever I'm unable to answer.

By the time it's all over, I'm physically ill and want to retreat to my room and escape from everything. But there's no time. All the mentors are supposed to be in place well before the start signal.

My thoughts drifts to Tad and Laraine. They must be on their way to the Arena now. Or maybe they're already there, waiting to be sent up through the glass cylinders.

The Mentors Lounge, how I hate that name, is a communication room set up for the mentors. It's a huge white sterile room with no windows. Every District is equipped with a station of their own, with big comfortable looking chairs and tables filled with lots of advanced equipment I have never seen before. There's also stacks with delicious looking fruits, sweets and with bread. Here we can sit in luxury and enjoy the show. The sight isn't helping to my already sick stomach.

At every station, there's two monitors, and at the end of the room there's a big screen for everyone to see.

"The two smaller ones shows your own tributes every minute of the day, until they die of course. The big one over there is showing us whatever they choose to broadcast. In other words, what the rest of Panem sees." Beetee, mentor from District 3, has come up behind me and is pointing the screens out to me.

The other mentors are slowly filling the room. Many of them smiles and says a short "hi" when passing by. Many of them I've seen before, but not all. While the many of the mentors stops at each others stations and makes small talks, I stand put. I'm not here to make friends.

"30 seconds to launch" I jump out of my skin, my heart racing. I almost run for the door. It's the exact same voice as when I was about to enter the Arena a year before. I half-expect guards to rush in and force us all into glass cylinders leading into the Arena.

A hand on my shoulder makes me jump a second time. I spin around ready to face the unknown threat behind me. Haymitch takes a step back, hands in the air. "Clam down. They're using the same recording everywhere." I don't leave my protective position, but slowly I gain control over my racing heart and my instinct to flee.

"Sorry, folks. I forgot to tell her." Haymitch is speaking to no one in particular, and I realize that the room has gone silent, every eye is fixed on me. I begin to stand up straight only to crunch down again when the voice comes again announcing that there are ten seconds to launch.

"Good job, Haymitch," I hear someone comment, but I'm not sure who it is. "We have agreed to tell every new mentor about that one. You know that."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it's just I haven't have the chance to tell anybody before, and it slipped my mind." He turns to me again. "Sorry, sweetheart. I should have mentioned it. But no one's coming for you." My heart has almost calmed, and I can feel my face heat up. The fear is ebbing out and is replaced by shame and anger.

I take one long stride toward Haymitch and slap him hard across the face. I'm about to shout at him when the voice sounds again. "The tributes are in the cylinders." As on cue, everyone in the room takes their places at their own station. I have to swallow my anger. Now isn't the time.

The tension in the room has suddenly became so thick you could cut it with a knife. The monitors in front of us flickers to life, and I can see the Arena for the first time. None of the mentors are allowed to know anything about the Arena before the Games starts, because it could give some of the tributes an advantage. As if it wasn't like some of them had that from before.

A gasp escapes me. Water. All the tributes are surrounded by water. When I look at the nationwide broadcast, I can see an overview picture of the 24 tributes. All standing on metal plates out in a pool of water. The golden Cornucopia is at an island at the center, with twelve strips of land radiating from there to the surrounding land area. The lake is circular with some kind of strange looking forest surrounding it. _Jungle?_ I think.

"Haymitch, I don't think any of them can swim!" I hiss under my breath. I have reached out and grabbed him by the arm, squeezing it hard. For once Haymitch looks as dumb founded as I feel. It would have been funny hadn't it been for the circumstances.

"I don't think many of them can," He answers frowning. "But there must be something… They don't want most of the tributes to drown. That would be too dull. There must be…" He squints studying the screens. "Look at the suits! I think there must be a floating belt on them."

I look up at the clock, ticking down the 60 seconds before start. 34 seconds left. One of the tributes catches my eye. It's the girl from District 8. I remember thinking she looked even younger than the other tributes. She lifts her hand to her mouth, kiss the middle three fingers and raises it to the cameras. Without hesitation she take one step forward.

The sound of the explosion echoes through my head. My mouth is open, but I don't know if I'm screaming or not. My eyes are fixed on the screen where the girl stood just seconds before. She isn't there anymore. Blown to pieces. I can only hear the echo of the explosion over and over in my head. Everything else is dead silence. I tear my eyes away from the screen to look over at the mentors from District 8.

Cecelia, the female mentor, is quietly crying. Tears running down her face, but she don't look away from the screen. _She knew! _I know I'm right. _She knew that the girl would do what she just did! _My suspicion is confirmed when I look at Haymitch. His facial expression is sullen. He knew as well. _What's happening here? _They knew this girl was going to take her own life, and I… I can't even remember her name.

It all happened so fast. What the girl did must have been broadcasted throughout Panem. Everyone has seen it. There's nothing anyone can do to diminish what she did.

I see the clock tick down to zero and the gong rings out. The Games has started.

One dead, 23 left.

* * *

_A/N And with that I want to wish everybody happy Christmas. Because of family obligations, I will not be able to post as often as I have done until now. I also want to complete drafts of all the chapters from the Games before posting the next, but I'm currently working on chapter 16/17, so I hope it won't take too long. Maybe before new year, but not sure yet. Thank you all for reading and special thanks to my faithful reviewers!_


	14. Chapter 14 - Bloodbath

**Chapter 14  
**

_Come away little lamb come away to the water,  
Give yourself so we may live anew.  
Come away little lamb come away to the slaughter,  
To the ones appointed to see it through.  
We are coming for you. We are coming for you._

"_Come Away To The Water" by Maroon 5 from The Hunger Games: Songs from District 12 and Beyond_

* * *

Even though the gong has sounded, none of the tributes has moved. Everyone seems to be paralyzed by what just happened. But I know it will not last. Eventually they will remember where they are and what's at stake. As soon as I've finished that thought the first tribute dive into the water, soon followed by the one directly opposite of him. The two tributes from District 4. Of course, they can swim. This must be the perfect arena for them.

I glaze over at the District 4 mentors. Finnick is frowning, watching the events unfold with a concerned look. I have never before seen him this tense. For once, it looks like he cares. His normally carefree and flirting appearance is gone. In it's stead is a serious, burdened young man. There's not as much as a trace of happiness, that I can see, over the fact that his tributes has a clear advantage in this Arena.

By now, some of the other tributes has started moving into the water. Almost all of the careers are paddling towards the Cornucopia. Caiden, Cato's little brother, is almost halfway there already. By the look of it, he has at least tried swimming before. Looking at the tributes floundering through the water, I realize Haymitch must be right. There's something with the suits that makes them float. _And thank God for that_, I think to myself.

Both Tad and Laraine still look spellbound on their metal plates. Neither one of them looking pleased at the thought of jumping in. I can see my golden mockingjay pin, on Laraine's chest, is gleaming in the sun.

I wish I could shout out to them that they would be fine in the water. That they wouldn't drown. That they had to get away. We have instructed them to clear out as soon as the gong sounds, just as Haymitch instructed Peeta and me the year before. But none of us had ever thought they would be stuck out in a pool of water.

Both tributes from District 4 has reached the Cornucopia and Caiden isn't far behind. Soon they'll be equipped with weapons and the killing will begin.

"Frustrating, isn't it?" Haymitch is watching me, and I realize I'm grinding my teeth in frustration. _There must be something I can do, isn't it?_ "No, we can't do anything at this point." Haymitch answers my unspoken question.

Right after Tad has let himself slip into the water a spear hit the plate where he stood only moments before. He starts to struggle through the water, heading for the surrounding jungle. The tribute who threw the spear doesn't try again. There are still far easier targets glued to their starting points.

The girl that aimed at Tad picks up a knife and this time she hits her target. The girl on the plate to Tad right collapses into the water. In seconds, the water is colored red with blood.

Soon the girl isn't the only floating body in the Arena. I can hear the cry of pain from the wounded and I see the motionless bodies of those who are already dead. My hands is shaking out of control and I feel dizzy. The blood is everywhere just like in my dream.

Everyone is supposed to watch the opening of the Games out in the Districts, and I have done that for as long as I can remember. But every year I tune out. I usually gather my thoughts around a happy memory of Gale and me out in the woods. Every year I would try not to see the horrible images on the screen. This year I can't do nothing else than watch. I see every second of the bloodbath that's unfolding in front of me. Weapon after weapon finding their targets. Every cry of pain. Every frightened face. Every drop of blood. The images are being carved into my memory. I know they will come back to haunt me.

Laraine hasn't still moved. She seems to be in shock. I can see that the boy from four is swimming towards her. My heart is racing. _This is the end_, I think, wishing I could turn around and close my eyes. But I can't. I'm her mentor, I'm supposed to look after her to the bitter end. So I watch.

The boy has reached her now. He grabs her arm and drags her towards the water. "Come, I'll help you get to the Cornucopia." _What?_ Now it's me that's in shock. Did I hear wrong? Is it a trap? But if he wanted to kill her, he would have had no problem doing that. "Come." He says again, more insisting this time. "We have to go, be quick. The suit makes you float"

"What the…" For the second time this day, Haymitch is at a loss. He's as shocked as I am. We just watch as the District 4 boy helps Laraine towards the Cornucopia and up on land with the rest of the careers.

The fighting is about to end. The slaughter more off, with most of the contestants paralyzed by the water. A boy is still desperately trying to get away, but he has taken a blow to his leg and the girl from one has soon caught up with him. She drives a spear into his back, and he's soon lying still, halfway up of the water.

The rest of the tributes has fled, or lies dead, by this point. The only ones remaining is the career pack… and Laraine.

A blur of the faces of dead children are running through my head. _How many dead?_ I can't think straight, and give up trying to count the flickering images of the dead tributes. But both Tad and Laraine is still alive.

I see the careers start to go through the gear at the Cornucopia. It seems to be only weapons, no food, and no survival equipment. This is a clear disadvantage for the career pack. Now they have to find food and fresh water like the rest of the tributes.

The canon fires. One, two, tree… With every blow Peeta's face flashes before my eyes. Four, five, six… His blood on my hands… Seven, eight, nine, ten. I have tried to prepare myself for the sound, but it hurt as hell never the less. By the time it's over I'm pressing my hands to my ears trying to keep the canon out, but to no avail.

"You can see the dead ones her as soon as their bodies are retrieved from the Arena." Haymitch point out a hologram standing on the table. "No waiting for the anthem to play up here." He laughs bitterly.

I watch the images of the dead tributes as they start to show. As I already know all the tributes from one, two and four is still alive, but the boy from District 3 didn't make it. Neither did the girl from five and none of the tributes from District 6 and 7. The boy from nine and the girls from ten and eleven is also dead. Including the girl from eight, who stepped off her plate, there is in all ten dead children.

_Why did she do it?_ I still can't get a grip on what had happened to the girl from eight. Was it because she knew she wouldn't make it? Almost every year there's a kid that refuses to fight. That don't run, and lets what he or she knows will come, happen sooner rather than later. Usually one of the careers finishes the kid off. But that isn't what the girl did. She choose to die at her one accord. And not just that, she did it intentional for everyone to see. Even the sign. It wasn't an accident. Far from it.

Of one thing I'm sure. She was not just a piece in the Games.

"Looks like we're allies now," Finnick's leaning over me. I didn't even see him coming, I was wrapped up in my own thoughts. I stare blankly at him. It takes a few moments before I understand what he's talking about. When tributes join alliances in the Arena, the mentors are supposed to work together for as long as the alliance hold. With Laraine among the careers Haymitch and I have to work with the mentors from their Districts, this includes Finnick.

"It was your idea, wasn't it?" I suddenly get a suspicion Finnick is behind the whole, lets-drag-this-girl-with-us thing. "Why?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the smile is back on his face, but I can still see the tension between his eyes that's new to me. "Are you coming to meet the others?"

"Yeah," I say, hesitating. "I'm coming. Just need a word with Haymitch." Finnick raises his eyebrows, but don't argue.

"We will be in the meeting room on the other side of the hall," and he's off.

"Why, Haymitch, why did they want to bring Laraine?" I ask after I have seen Finnick disappear through the door.

"I can see two reasons. One, they want the sponsor-money that's coming with her, or rather you. And two, they see her as competition and wants to keep her close. You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer, or something like that."

"Do I have to go? Can't you do it?"

"Oh no, I'm leaving this to you. You go talk business, I stay here and keep an eye on things and talk to sponsors. We have a meeting in about an hour. Do you want to go there instead?" He asks. I just shake my head feeling trapped between two evils. "Guessed so. And they wanted you. You are the prettiest after all, even if it hurts to admit it," he laughs, but without much humor to it.

…

I'm standing outside the door to meeting room 231. My stomach is a knot from anxiety. Never in my wildest dream have I thought that any of my tributes would become a part of the career pack, resulting in me working with their mentors. _It could have been worse_, I think, _she could have been dead. You doing something that's uncomfortable isn't a good enough reason to start whining. This isn't about you. Stop talking to yourself, go in and do your job. _

I go in. Six pairs of eyes immediately falls at me. Their gazes drilling into me. Some more friendly than others. Enobaria, the female District 2 mentor, is looking at me with contempt and flashes her cosmetically pointed teeth. Pelias, the other mentor from two, seems much friendlier and is the first to greet me. The siblings from District 1, Cashmere and Gloss, follow closely behind him. Finnick gestures towards his fellow mentor, naming him Abaris. He seems slightly bored and just give me a nod.

"We were just discussing the water problem. The water in the lake is sea water, and if you look at this…" Cashmere shoves me an overview footage of the Arena and some footage from inside the Jungle. "…you can't see any other water source."

"But there have to be," I say while studying the pictures. The trees and plants isn't looking like anything I have seen before. Cashmere is right about the water, though. I can't see any signs of streams, pools or other water sources anywhere.

"You are right. There has to be water there. They don't want all the tributes to die from dehydration within a few days." Pelias says looking at the pictures in my hand over my shoulder.

"There's water in the trees," We all look up at Abaris. It's the first thing he's said at all.

There's silence while we all try to process what he just said. Then everyone started talking at once.

"How?" "Of course that's has to be it." "What? The trees?" "But how to get it out." I don't even know who's saying what.

A memory of my dad in the forest comes to my mind. He's shoving me how to tap sap from a maple tree.

"A spile," It slips out of my mouth. "They need a spile."

"A what? I didn't think water was your element, fire girl." Enobaria says without trying to hide her dislike towards me.

"I think she's right," Finnick says. "We have to send one in. Katniss, how much sponsor money do you have?"

I shrug. Guess Haymitch was right about the money. "I don't know. Haymitch's the one managing the sponsors."

"Okay. I have a sponsor meeting soon. Abaris and Gloss can talk to Haymitch. We will send one in after the first sponsor deals are signed. If that's fine with everyone."

We all agree. What else can I do? Laraine needs the water as much as anybody else does.

…

Haymitch isn't there when I return to our station. I guess he's off meeting potential sponsors.

I can see Laraine following the careers through the jungle. Right now they aren't talking. They're all occupied with the struggle through the overgrown, rugged landscape. They're starting to look tired, but still they move forward. Caiden in the lead. I don't know if they're looking for water or has taken up the hunt for the other tributes.

Tad looks exhausted. He's sitting, leaning back against a tree. Sweat is dripping from his forehead and his breathing is heavy.

_What to do now?_ I think. My hand reach out without me thinking about it. I take a slice of bread and put it in my mouth. I haven't eaten in hours, but food haven't been a priority. I'm looking back at Tad and suddenly I have problems chewing. How can I sit here and eat when the kids out there are thirsting and starving and dying?

_Katniss, you have to eat_. I tell myself. _It's not helping them if you are losing focus because you haven't eaten. _I make myself to continue, but all the delicious food taste like ash and I have to force down every bite.

It's starting to darken in the Arena. With no windows in the room, I have no clue if it's darkening here as well. I look at the clock. Half past nine. Is it that late already? I have completely lost all sense of time.

"Katniss, you look tired. You go get some sleep. I can watch over them now." Haymitch slides down in the chair next to mine. He's looking as tired as I feel, but it's his tone that surprises me the most. No sweetheart, no jokes on my behalf.

"Did you talk to Abaris and Cashmere?" I ask.

"Yes, they're going to send in the spile."

"We have to send one to Tad as well," I say while watching Tad on the screen. He has begun walking again, but he moves painfully slow. I can almost feel the dryness in my own mouth just by watching him. I shudder at the thought of nearly dying of dehydration in the Arena myself.

"No, we won't." I look surprised up at Haymitch.

"Yes, we have to! We…"

"No, we will not!" He repeats.

"Why!?" I demands

"Because we can only save one of them. We have to pick which one. Splitting the money may mean both their deaths." He speaks without anger, without regrets. Like it's a matter of fact.

"You choose me over Peeta, didn't you?" My voice is barely audible. I feel anger flashing through me.

"Yes, I did."

I turn without a word, and leave the room. Could it have been Peeta here instead of me if Haymitch had chosen differently? Are we condemning Tad to death, just as Haymitch did with Peeta?

I storm into my room and throw myself at the bed. I hate Haymitch for choosing me. And for making me chose between Tad and Laraine. I hate myself for being alive while Peeta is dead, while ten twelve year olds died today. And I hate the Capitol. Most of all I hate them.

I cry myself to sleep, exhausted. It's been a long day, and I fear for the days to come. One last thought drifts across my mind:

Ten dead, 14 left.

* * *

_A/N About the mentors. I have given it a lot of thought who the mentors from each district should be. I thought it unlikely that all the ones that were reaped in the 75th Hunger Games would be mentoring if they hadn't been reaped. Especially among the career tributes who have the highest amount of previous victors. I have chosen to have some victors who are portrayed in the books and some I have made for this story. None of them is really going to play a big part in this story, though (except for Finnick and Haymitch of course)._


	15. Chapter 15 - Ticking

**Chapter 15**

_Welcome to your life  
There's no turning back  
Even while we sleep  
We will find you  
Acting on your best behavior  
Turn your back on Mother Nature  
Everybody wants to rule the world_

"_Everybody Wants To Rule The World" by Lorde from __The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_

* * *

I wake up by a knock on the door. It feels like I have barely fallen asleep. I look at the watch on the nightstand. Three minutes past midnight. I can't have slept more than an hour. I drag myself out of bed and go to open the door.

A servant is standing outside. "Mr. Abernathy sent for you. He said to tell you something is happening in the Arena." I just nod in return.

I'm still dressed, not bothering to get out of my clothes before I fell asleep. But I go to the bathroom and throw some water in my face. The cold water is helping me clear my head. I can't bear to meet my own reflection in the mirror, so I walk out in the hall without caring how I look.

In the chill-out-zone outside the communication room, I see Johanna lying casually on one of the couches. She's watching some kind of Capitol entertainment program.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to help your tributes?" I frown at her.

"No point in that when they're both dead." She doesn't look at me, her eyes doesn't leave the TV screen. "It's been the same every fucking year. Not a single one has survived the bloodbath since I became a mentor. But it means less work for me." She talks like she don't care, but I don't believe her.

"Johanna, I'm…"

"No, you go do _your_ job now. And leave me the fuck alone."

I do as she asks, and turn to walk into the Mentors Longue.

I stride right over to where Haymitch is intensely watching the monitors.

"What's happening?"

"Don't know yet, but something's up. At exactly twelve o' clock the trolling of a bell started, I counted twelve. Then lightning hit that big tree followed by a lightning storm. No one was in the area when the lightning hit. I thought it best to wake you. Didn't want you to murder me because I didn't wake you,"

I don't deny his accusation, and just shrug. "Any idea what it means?" I ask.

"Not yet"

"Anything else? Some more… ehm." It's hard to say it aloud, but Haymitch catch what I mean.

"No, everybody's safe and sound," He says. I snorts, but he continues before I can say anything. "But something funny happened, though." This catches my attention.

"Something funny?"

"Yeah, Tad run into someone." _On no_, I think. But Haymitch has already said no more deaths, or rather _everybody's safe and sound_, to be exact.

"He met the girl from nine and the boy from eleven. They had formed some sort of alliance and Tad joined them,"

"What!?" It seems like everyone's out to surprise me, and they seems to be succeeding. "Why?"

"You ask me? I don't think it was planned. My guess is that your little stunt getting together with Rue last year made it easier for the kids this year to do the same." He's frowning. "It's not necessarily a bad thing. The girl, Haven, had figured out about the water in the trees, smart kid. Now you don't need to feel bad about not sending a spile. Laraine and the Careers has also stopped to take a break. They got the spile almost thirty minutes ago."

I sit down in the chair next to Haymitch. I'm worn out although I got some sleep. We sit there, not talking. I drift off to a half slumber. The room is quiet. Nothing is happening in the Arena, and many of the mentors are using the chance to get some rest.

Suddenly Haymitch nudges me in the side. "Look" He's pointing at the overview. I instantly understand what he's talking about. In a small part of the arena it has started to rain. Or not rain, but…

"What is it?"

"Don't know. But there isn't any tributes there, so I don't think they'll be showing us a closer look."

"Have you figured out what's going on yet?"

"Maybe. I will tell you in an hour."

"Sure," I mutter looking over at the clock. It's one in the night. I lean back in my chair again. This waiting is dreadful.

…

I must have dozed off again, because I jump in my seat when Haymitch elbows me an hour later.

"I was right," Right? About what? He sees the uncomprehending look on my face. "I thought I had it figured out, and I was right. The Arena, it's a clock." This isn't making me any wiser, rather the opposite.

Haymitch sigh and start to explain slowly, as to a child. "It started at midnight with the lightning. Then at one o'clock it started raining, or whatever it was, in the area to the right from the lightning zone. And now it's two o' clock, and look. There's some kind of smoke pouring through the jungle to the right from rain zone." He looks questioningly at me to see if I'm getting it, which I'm not. "If you look at the Arena from above it's round, with the Cornucopia in the middle, and…"

"Yes, I see it. The twelve stripes of land in the lake… You're a genius!" I say elated. I suddenly understand. Every hour a new threat. Haymitch really is a genius. I wonder how many of the other mentors have figured it out yet. And what about the tributes in the Arena? "Do you think any of the contestants has figured it out?"

He shakes his head. "No. They don't have the same overview of the Arena as we do, and no idea what the exact time of day is. Not to mention they have a lot of other things on your mind."

He's right. It's going to be a lot harder to see the pattern from the inside. And I now see we have a problem. The careers, and Laraine with them, have started to move again. They're walking through the jungle, against the clock, and they are sure to be caught in the three o'clock zone when it starts. How can we use what Haymitch has discovered to help them? Can we help them?

…

"Finnick," I'm hammering at the door to the room Abaris directed me to. After a few minutes, a groggy looking Finnick opens the door. If I hadn't known better I would almost have thought I got the wrong room. He looks far from the Capitol sex symbol I have seen on TV. His hair is messy and his face is drained of color, probably because the lack of sleep. His eyes are red and puffy. It almost looks like he's been crying, but I conclude that it's must be because he's tired.

"Katniss?" He looks surprised to see me.

"The Arena, it's a clock, and our tributes are walking into the tree o'clock zone. I don't know what will happen, but we have to help them," the words flows out of my mouth. I only receive a blank face in return.

"I have no idea what you just said. Give me a moment and I'll be with you."

I try to explain as good as I can on our way back to the Mentors Lounge. Finnick goes straight to his own station, and after a second of hesitation, I follow him.

"Abaris, where are they now?" Finnick asks. Abaris points them out. They're forcing their way through the jungle, right in the middle of what seems to be the tree o'clock area. I look at the clock and it's only minutes away from turning three.

Finnick explains to Abaris, but I'm not paying attention. My eyes is fixed at the monitors. It turns three, but nothing happens. I'm scanning the woods around them desperately trying to see the coming threat. My hands are clammy.

A movement catch my attention, but it's only some sort of animal. Monkey? Isn't it? I think I have seen one in a previous Game. I can't see nothing else.

Then I see another of the animals, and another. All of a sudden, there're dozens of monkeys in the trees over the group of kids. The struggling children hasn't yet seen the gathering monkeys above them. Even more of the monkeys are coming. It looks like they are about to attack.

"They're mutts, aren't they?" I ask Finnick. He just nods. "We have to help them. Isn't there something we can send in to warn them, or help, or…" Just as I say this, the first monkey throw itself at the girl from District 1. It hits her in the back and make her fall over. Her scream alerts the others and they turn towards the unknown threat with weapons in there hands. Caiden slays the monkey attacking the girl, but more mutts are following close by. Fur, blood and flying weapons is soon the only thing we see.

"Finnick!" I almost scream, grabbing him by the arm.

"There's nothing we can do," He says in an even voice, meeting my eyes.

"But there has to be…"

"No, Katniss. There…

"But we have to. We could…"

"Katniss! Look!" Finnick suddenly grabs me by my shoulders and pierces me with an intense gaze. "I was just like you. Hell, everyone is like this their first year. Everyone is thinking they can save the kids. But we all learned the hard way that there's very little we can do. For the most part, we sit and we watch!" His voice is slightly shaking, _by anger?_, but his eyes are pleading. "Do you think any one of us is enjoy this? Year after year, watching kids we learn to care about die. It's just a sick trick from the Capitol, one of their many ways of controlling us." His fingers are painfully digging into my shoulders, but the pain coming from his words is fare worse.

One thing is hearing Haymitch say it's nothing to be done. He's a drunken old man who has given up on everything, but Finnick? He's a career from District 4, the Capitols pet and an self-loving bastard. The look on him now and the words he speaks doesn't fit with that image. What does he mean by _the mentoring just another way for the Capitol to control them_?

I think about the letter I got from President Snow. He threatened to kill Gale if I didn't keep up the love story. Is that what Finnick means? Has Snow something on every one of the previous victors? I have never thought about that possibility. Many of the previous victors are often shown smiling side by side with people in the Capitol. Up until now I thought they enjoyed their luxurious Capitol life. But hasn't I been forced to do exactly the same since I became a victor myself?

"I… I…" I don't know what to say. Our gazes are still linked, his eyes pleading and mine confused.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. There isn't really any winners in the Games. We're all just trying to save our own skin as best as we can. Maybe you survived the Games, but we're all still playing. You will learn." It's almost pity in his voice. I can't handle it anymore, this strange, concerned Finnick. I wiggle out of his grip. The sound of the cannon makes us both jump, and I can see the fear I feel mirrored in his face. We turn as one to watch the still fighting tributes.

Laraine seems to be doing ok, considering the circumstances. She has a bow over her shoulder, but she's not using it. I guess she has it just to look more like me. Instead, she's holding a long bladed knife she's using to fight of the attacking monkeys. I search for the fallen one and see the boy from one lying lifeless in a pool of blood. His throat ripped open.

The remaining tributes have managed to fight their way through the jungle and will soon be over in the fog zone. Of course, they don't know that, but it's a relief to me.

All of a sudden the monkeys stops. They must have passed the invisible border that the mutts can't cross. They're exhausted and hurt. The girl from one is limping. She probably hurt her leg when she was knock over by the first monkey. Laraine has a long cut down her arm, but it don't look deep. The others also has minor wounds that needs attending.

They are looking at each other, like counting their numbers over and over. The girl from one is fighting back tears, but she's not the only one. It's the first sign that they're not invincible. It really is a question of life and death, and I think this is the first time it hits home for most of them.

The volunteered to win, and suddenly their own deaths seems chillingly realistic.

Me, Finnick and Abaris decide to talk to the others about sending in some food and healing ointment. Finnicks words are still ringing in my head; _There's very little we can do, for the most part we sit and we watch_. But at least I must do the little I _can_ do.

…

Hour after hour, we watch for terrors of the clock. Not every threat is visible to the eye, like the five to six zone where a contestant is paralyzed and unable to move for the hour. I talk to Beetee who wonder if they could be using some kind of sound wave unheard by the human ear. Most likely, it goes off at exactly five, and freezes everyone in the zone. After that, any new tributes arriving can move freely. It's not dangerous in itself, but you're completely helpless if someone finds you.

While talking to Beetee I see his remaining tribute, a girl, going with the clock exactly one hour after the active zone. I'm not surprised she's the one that understood the Arena-clock first.

There's also more pronounced threats like the mutation beast at six o'clock. Luckily, no one is in that area at the time.

The next death happens at seven when the boy from eight is caught in quicksand. I have to go outside because I can no longer watch the screaming boy slowly sinking to his death in the sand. I don't come back in until the canon has fired.

Twelve dead, twelve left.

* * *

_Ellenka: Thanks! And happy new year to you too!_

_ImaginationStation00: Thank you! I haven't planned to write a sponsor meeting, foremost because I don't have a clear idea regarding that…_

_Aislynn: Thank you very much! I'm glad you like it. Regarding a possible future revolution, I don't want say too much. But it's no secrets that the Districts aren't happy, and that they aren't fare away from uprisings in some of them._

_QHLuver: Yes, I'm aware and I'm sorry. English is not my native language, and there are far too many years since I used English regularly. I try to read through it, and I have another read it through as well, but I know we don't get everything._


	16. Chapter 16 - Conscience

**Chapter 16  
**

_And when he saw her raised for the slaughter  
Abraham's daughter raised her bow  
How dearest you child defy your father  
You better let young Isaac go_

"_Abraham's Daughter" by Arcade Fire from The Hunger Games: Songs from District 12 and Beyond_

* * *

For the next hours, Haymitch and I relieve each other at irregular intervals so both can get some rest. I try to sleep, but every time I close my eyes, the only thing I can see is the many killings replayed in my head.

On Haymitch's watch Tad's alliance, consisting of Haven from nine and Grits from eleven, gets caught in the nine to ten zone. By the look of it, the temperature is drastically increased, but they have the wits to get moving. If they hadn't they would have been boiled alive.

I have sent Haymitch off to get some time off and I sink down in the chair. I wonder what it was like for Haymitch being a mentor all by himself. Did he ever get a chance to sleep?

Lightning is followed by rain and then the fog starts. I have been drifting away in thoughts for some time. I'm starting to feel the lack of sleep and the high level of stress taking it's toll on my body. It's harder to concentrate, my head feels dizzy and my hands is unsteady, making the cup in my hand shatter. It's not yet a day since the Games began, how am I going to last for a week or more?

It takes some time before I register the dangerous situation that's unfolding in the Arena. The careers are too close to the fog that is expanding through the jungle. They are running away from it. No one knows what's going to happen if it reaches them, but you can count on it being unpleasant at the very best.

I watch as the girl from two falls and shortly after is swallowed by the fog. The others doesn't even look back, they just keep running. The girl screams one time before everything falls silent. I half expect to hear the cannon, but that doesn't happen. Suddenly the fog start to thin, and as quickly as it came it's gone. It's like a sudden wind blowing through the Arena, blowing the thick white mist away.

The remaining five comes to a halt. "Alexa," Caiden shouts back into the jungle. No reply. "Alexa" he shouts again, but nothing.

"We have to go back and look for her," It's the girl from four, Deeann. "If she was dead we should have heard the cannon by now."

They turn around to head back. They soon find her. She's sitting on the ground curled up in a ball. Rocking back and forth mumbling something I can't hear. The group of twelve year olds are suddenly unsure how to approach.

The girl from one takes a hesitating step towards the mumbling girl. "Alexa?" she ask softly. All the images of the volunteering kids as ruthless little killers crumbles to dust at that one single soft-spoken word. When I look at them now they're a bunch of scared young children, just like the two I got to know on the train to the Capitol. How couldn't I see that before? I've been so consumed by their obscure view of the Games and their eagerness to win, to realize they're also innocent children in the Capitols sick Games.

Alexa doesn't respond and the girl reaches out for her. The mumbling come to a sudden stop and Alexa's body tenses. Slowly she lifts her head, glaring at the approaching girl. Her face is distorted with anger, hate and fear. Her eyes gleaming dangerously with bloodthirstiness.

What happen next, happens so fast I have trouble following it. Alexa lifts a dagger and burrows it in the girl's chest. A cannon fires. The girl from one falls limply to the ground as Alexa leaps to her feet. The four other seems to be paralyzed, none of them moving an inch.

Alexa flashes her teeth, not very different from how her mentor often does, and runs towards Caiden who's the one closest. This seems to break the spell. Caiden manage at the last moment to raise his sword and blocks the incoming attack. He dances back to avoid the next strike. Laraine and the two from four has turned and is running in the opposite direction. Caiden dodges yet another sweep of the dagger in Alexa's hand, before he turns to follow the others.

Alexa's attack took them by surprised and none of them was prepared to fight. They were lucky she didn't hurt or kill anyone else.

"What just happened?" I'm not aware that I spoke the words aloud before Haymitch answers me.

"It's the fog. It triggers something in your brain. It makes you want to kill everyone around you. I heard a rumor that head Gamemaker Seneca Crane changed the fog from being poisonous to mess up your brain after the Quarter Quell card twist was announced. Maybe he feared twelve year olds wasn't bloodthirsty enough and wanted to ensure more fighting."

"That's just sick!"

"So _now_ you realize, sweetheart."

After running away from Alexa, the career group stumble into the active monkey zone. This time they see what's about to happen and they make it down to the beach unharmed. It seems like this gives them a clue to what's going on, and the next several hours they stay at the beach to observe the jungle from there.

…

Haven, the girl from nine in Tad's company, is indeed a smart kid as Haymitch pointed out. She figures out enough of what's going on so that they manage to escape the next round of threats heading their way.

Haymitch has agreed to talk to the mentors from nine and eleven because I already cover Laraine's alliance. Haymitch is a good friend with Chaff from eleven, so it's a good deal for both of us.

Nevertheless, I can't help myself keep watching out for Tad like I do with Laraine. Haymitch is still set on not using sponsors money on Tad, even if I half-heartedly has tried to convince him different a few times.

The group of three as stopped to rest for the night. Grits has gathered some yellowy, hairy looking fruits from a tree. I think they look suspicious, and I'm not a big fan of them trying to eat them.

"I remember this," Grits says. "I saw them at the Edible Plants station in the Training Center."

"You're sure?" Haven sounds suspicious.

"Yeah, positive," Grits takes a bite of the fruit before any of the others has a chance to stop him. Tad looks at him with big round eyes. The look on his face tells me he's half expecting Grits to fall over dead. But he doesn't.

"See!" Grits smiles, taking another bit. "Tastes a little weird, but not in a bad way. Much better than nothing at least!" He tosses one to Tad.

Tad lifts the fruit to his eyes to examine it. "Katniss would have known. She taught me a lot about what to eat and not, but I don't think she mentioned this one." The poor boy has far too much confidence in me. To be honest I have never seen the thing in his hands before.

"Oh. Camille, my mentor, say Katniss is a joke. That she isn't as good as everyone think she is. I don't think she likes her." Haven says. I frown at this. _Who's Camille?_ I can't remember any mentor by that name. _And what have I done to her?_

Tad comes to my rescue. He tells Havens that I'm the best mentor he could have and that Camille don't know what she's talking about. His fiery dedication to me makes my heart ache. He has so much faith in me. And what am I doing to help him? Nothing. I'm doing absolutely nothing. I don't deserve his loyalty.

The discussion between Tad and Haven comes to a halt when the anthem starts to play. There's three pictures in the sky. I'm not sorry I missed the day before when there was ten of them. Over half of the tributes dead already. If this keeps up, I'll be going home at the end of the week. I'm not sure if I should feel happy or just cry at the thought.

I hear someone behind me and turn to see Haymitch.

"Who's Camille?" I ask

"Camille? You should know. She won the year before you, from District 9." He answers.

"Oh," I just say. Yes, I should have remembered that. "Haven said she doesn't like me."

"She did? I guess that could be the case. Upset that not everybody loves you?" He asks, lifting his eyebrows.

"No, I just wondered what I have done to her. I don't even know her."

"She's just jealous. She wins and she's forgotten before the day is past because of the boring Games. But you, you're a star. Everyone's talking about you, everyone remembers you."

"I'd love to be her. I can't wait for them to forget that I exist."

"I know that. But I guess we always wants what we don't have, hmm?"

…

The night goes by with no more deaths. But the Games so far has been both bloody and entertaining from a Capitol point of view. I think we will have a few days without any more deaths before the Gamemakers decides to interfere.

Haymitch sends me off to rest, and as soon as I reach my room I collapse onto my bed. I think my body is so desperate for sleep that I'm out cold for the next few hours. No nightmares.

The morning is quiet. The tributes are hungry and weary. Laraine's group is better off when it comes to food than the rest, since we have sent in food to them. I feel extremely guilty for not having done the same for Tad.

We have less money in the career alliance now since both from District 1 is dead. The prices has also soared, and we have decided to await the situation before spending more. We don't know what will come.

Everett and Deeann are also good fishers, coming from District 4, and after setting up camp on the beach, they manage to gather quite a meal.

They have decided to wait where they are until the clock passes them again, and then follow clockwise to explore the Arena. At three o'clock, the monkeys gather in the jungle next to them, and the four tributes ready for departure.

…

Pelias, from district 2, and me is watching as our tributes are struggling through the jungle. I sent Haymitch of to rest when I found him sleeping in his chair, and soon after Pelias came over to join me.

I like Pelias. He's nothing like I imagine career victors to be. He's an easy person to be around, he always knows what to say and he's the only who have made me smile genuinely since I came to the Capitol. _He reminds you of Peeta_, a small voice whispers in the back of my head. I push the thought away. I don't want to think about Peeta.

The four tributes have been working their way through the thick forest for about two hours. It's tiring work, and they're all dripping with sweat. They have just stopped for a break when Deeann who has been in the lead comes hurrying back.

"There's someone in front of us," she whispers.

"Who?" Caiden whispers back.

"I don't know, but I think it's a boy. Something seemed strange though. He was just standing there. I didn't see him move at all."

"Let's go check it out." Caiden decides, and they all start to move again. They try to keep low and to be as silent as possible, but it's not easy with the overgrown forest floor. Everett, who's now in the lead, suddenly stops and holds up his arm to signal for the others stop. He slowly moves forward alone.

I see him approach the boy who is standing, as Deeann observed, completely still. He isn't responding to Everett at all even if he's now only a meter away. Everett stands up and walks up to the boy. Still not a single movement.

I look at the clock, 5.37 pm. The sound waves, at five o'clock, must have paralyzed the boy. I think he's from District 10. He won't be capable of moving in another 23 minutes.

"Hey guys, come check this out," Everett calls to the tree waiting tributes. And the others joins him.

"He's not moving," Laraine observes. She waves her hand in front of his face. "Do you think he can hear us?"

"Possible, wouldn't be any fun otherwise," Caiden answers. He's probably right.

"We should kill him, and get moving," Everett says. "Caiden?" he asks holding out his knife with shaft first.

"Let twelve do it," Caiden answers, nodding towards Laraine. He watches her with challenging eyes and a wicked grin on his face.

_Fuck_, I think. Either way, this is _not_ going to be good. He has put Laraine under stress. She can't refuse. This will show her as weak, costing us a lot of sponsors, and in worst case it will break the alliance. I can't see any chances of Laraine getting out of there alive if she breaks the alliance now.

On the other hand, it's a coward's kill, stabbing a completely defenseless boy. Killing him won't do her much good either. I'm not sure if she can get herself to do it either. I can see the panic on her face. Her eyes flickers from Caiden to the boy from ten and back again. She can also see the dangers of refusing.

"I…" she stutters, unable to answer.

"Is there a problem?" Caiden asks. He takes the knife from Everett and walks over to Laraine. "Can't you do it?" He asks while pressing the knife into her shaking hand.

I can see her breathing to fast and I'm starting to worry if she will go into hysterics. Caiden smiles at her and lifts her hand so that the knife is resting against the boy's chest. Everett and Deeann has stepped back, deciding it wisest not to get involved in Caiden's game.

"You just drive the knife in here, and his dead. Simple as that." Caiden is grinning. _Forget every nice thought of career kids, this one is evil_, I think.

Laraine's eyes are wide open. I remember the poor boy's hysteric mother from the reaping. Peacekeepers had to tear her away from her son, all the time she was screaming and fighting in panic. I wonder if Laraine is thinking about that too. I hope not.

Caiden has let go of Laraine's hand, and she's now standing with the knife edge pressed against the boys chest alone. She's still hesitating.

Suddenly she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and draws her arm back. She than stabs it hard forward into his chest. A cannon fires. The boy don't fall, he's standing as still as before, but his eyes witch a moment before was filled with fear is no blank. The knife is burrowed in his chest and his suite is soon soaked with blood.

Laraine lets out a cry of pain, like a wounded animal, and sinks to the ground at the feet of the dead boy. One single tear is running down her cheek.

I'm as paralyzed as the dead boy. I didn't think she would do it. The Capitol has made this sweet, witty girl into a murderer, as they have done to so many children before her. I know she will never be the same. If she live through this she's going to live this moment over and over again for the rest of her life. The boy, her first kill, will never let her go.

I can feel Pelias' hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry" he says. He leans in close and whisper so only I can hear. "The Capitol will pay for this." He straightens up and with one last assuring squeeze on my shoulder he walks away.

I watch as Laraine struggle to pull herself together. She's still crouched on the ground, and small choked sobs are escaping her. After a while, she lifts her head and strokes the tear away with an angry gesture before getting up on her feet. The four of them start to walk away leaving the boy behind. I'm still watching as the hovercraft come to claim his body.

14 dead, ten left.

* * *

_A/N Thank you so much for every review, fan and follower! Reviews are always appreciated! _

_BillytheKid22: Thank you so much! I'm glad you like it even when she's away from Gale ;-) (But as I just said, a little bit Gale is coming up chap 18 :-) ) And yes, I really hope I'm improving :-D About Katniss becoming the mockingjay, I won't say too much about that one ;-)_


	17. Chapter 17 - Price

**Chapter 17  
**

_I look in the mirror  
And I try to see myself  
Wherever look terror  
From the games I played so well  
I try to see clearer  
I try to forget the thoughts I started  
I try to be nearer  
To where you are  
To where you are_

"_Mirror" by Ellie Goulding from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_

* * *

"Do I have to go?" I ask.

"No, I'm just telling you what he said. He wasn't interested in meeting with me. He wanted it to be you, or there would be no deal. I know he's rich and that he can be a generous sponsor. It's up to you if you want to go or not." Haymitch says. He's looking at me with an expression that's hard to read. I can feel it's a _but_ that he's not saying.

"You want me to go?" I ask, trying a different approach.

"I don't see how what _I want_ is of any significant. Usually you're good at ignoring that point, sweeti. Why the change of heart?" He answers with a crooked smile. I sigh. I'm not going to get anything more out of him.

"Okay, I'll go." I throw my hands in the air.

"But if you _want_ an advice; take a shower. You're starting to smell," The smile is growing on his face.

"Look who's talking," I mumble, but I guess he has a point. I don't like wasting time showering and making myself look good this days. The few hours I get to rest is often spent with my clothes on, not bothering taking them off in case something happens when I'm asleep.

"Maybe Cinna is available. He could help you find something to wear," says Haymitch, suddenly serious again. I nod.

Nevertheless, it would be nice to get a chance to meet one of the few people I consider a friend in this awful place. I'm about to leave when Haymitch lies a hand on my arm, stopping me. "And Katniss… Be careful." I meet his gaze and he holds it for a short moment before patting my arm and looking away.

…

It's good to see Cinna. Being in his presence is making me calm, and I feel almost relaxed as I sit back in a chair while he helps me lay on some light makeup. I'm showered and cleaned, and Cinna has helped me find an appropriate formal dress for the occasion.

"Who is the man you are going to meet?" Cinna asks while he's braiding my hair. I could have done that myself, but it's nice to feel his skilled hands brushing through my hair.

"I don't know. Haymitch didn't tell. But apparently he's rich."

"Must be someone important to get a one to one meeting with the Girl on Fire." Cinna says. I'm a bit surprised at his statement.

"What makes you say that?" I wonder.

"Like Peeta said; you have no idea what effect you have on people, do you?"

I don't have an answer to that, but just as when Peeta said it I don't really understand what they all mean by it.

"I'm nervous," I confess, trying to change the subject. "What if I blow it? This meeting can mean a lot of money for Tad and Laraine… Or at least Laraine…" The last part I only mumble.

Cinna chooses to ignore the last bit of my of what I just said.

"You will do great. Even if Haymitch tells you, you are dull, that does not make it true. People in the Capitol loves you. You should hear how they are talking about you…"

"I rather not," I cut in, and he sends me a comprehending look.

"What I am saying is that you will do fine." He gives me a pat on the back. "You are done. You go and seal that deal."

…

"Echelaus Pender, but please call me Echelaus" The man in front of me reaches out his hand to me. I take it and we shake hands. The man, Echelaus, looks to be in his early thirties, he's high and thin with short cut blond hair. He would have looked relatively normal had it not been for his neon green jacket with big shoulder pads and matching eye makeup.

"Katniss Everdeen," I say. I try to put on a friendly smile hoping it doesn't look too stiff.

"I know who you are," Echelaus smiles at me. "Shall we sit?" He gestures to a sofa. I look for somewhere else to sit, but there's none. After a small hesitation, I take my seat next to him.

"So," I begin, fumbling for the words. "You want to sponsor the tributes from District 12?" What am I supposed to say? What am I supposed to do? No one has told me much about meeting potential sponsors, or if anyone did, I didn't pay close attention.

"My dear, do not be so hasty. Let us begin by taking a glass of wine and a have a talk." He leans casually over to a table to where there's standing a bottle of wine and two glasses. I haven't even noticed it until now. In my mind I would come, we would say some pleasantries, sign the papers and go our separate ways. Drinking wine with this Capitol man was never a part of the plan. _Is this normal?_

"I… I don't think… N-no, thank you," I stutter.

"Oh, don't be shy. Just one glass. For me." He says, holding out a glass to me. His smile is surely meant to be charming, but I think it's more creepy.

I don't know what to do, so I take the glass from his hand. Our hands brushes as he passes the glass and I feel a chill run up my arm. Echelaus doesn't seem to notice my discomfort.

"So, Katniss." He rolls on my name when he's saying it. "How do you find your life as a Victor?"

_What? _I gape at him. What's he playing at? "I… It's nice, I think."

He throws his head back laughing loudly. I start to think he's a bit crazy, or maybe it's a Capitol thing I don't get.

"You are just adorable. So humble." He leans towards me. "And beautiful. You are even more beautiful in real life than on the screen, who would have known." I try to push myself further away from him, but I'm already sitting as far away as I possibly can on the small couch.

"Katniss, about the sponsor money…" he says while reaching out to stroke a bit of hair away from my face. I will myself to keep still. At least now we are talking about what I came here for, I don't want to screw it up. "…I think we can come to an agreement, do you not think so to?"

Carefully he takes the untouched glass of wine out of my hand and sets it back on the table. He leans even closer, now only inches away. _Stay still_, I tell myself. I try to think of Laraine. Maybe this man's money can save her life. But as he leans in to kiss me all I can see is Gale and I know I can't do it.

I turn my head and his lips only brushes my cheek. Creeps run down my back at his unwanted touch. The smiling, charming man is gone. He grabs my chin and turn my head towards him again.

"Playing hard to get?" He hisses at me. "I thought you wanted the money."

"I think it's time I go," I say, staring back at him.

"Do not be like that." He puts his arm around me, and I feel his hand sliding down to rest at my lower back. He tries to drag me closer, but I've had enough. My body reacts on it's own. My hand flies up and I hit him. It takes him by surprise, and he loses his grip.

I'm stand up and is heading for the door. I feel a hand around my arm, and I'm suddenly drawn backwards. Every fiber of my being cries for me to run. D_anger! Flee_! I kick and scream until I'm free, and I'm at the door in seconds.

"I have powerful friends, Miss Everdeen. I will talk to Snow and I will see you again." It's the last thing I heard before the door closes behind me.

…

"How did it go?" Hymitch asks when I'm back. I walked almost straight to the Mentors Lounge after only a small detour to my room to rip of the dress and get into something more comfortable – something not touched by that man.

"Don't ask," I say in a strained voice. And he doesn't. After a small pause, I add, "I don't think we're going to get any money from him."

"Figured,"

We sit in silence while watching the monitors in front of us.

Tad, Haven and Grits has begun to walk, like the careers, clockwise in the Arena, but further away from the active zone. They're not far from the tree where lightning strikes at twelve o' clock.

Suddenly there's a movement in the bushes in front of them and a person, covered in blood from head to toe, steps through. It takes me a moment to recognize the girl. It's Alexa, the girl from two who was caught in the fog.

She's dripping blood, her eyes are clouded, and the pupils are fare to big making her eyes look almost black. She takes a step towards the three kids. They back away.

"Afraid, eh? It's just a little blood. Not mine. Came pouring down from the sky." She laughs, while she takes another step towards them. If anything, she's even more crazy now than the last time I saw her. I want to scream to Tad to run, that she's not stable.

_There's very little we can do, for the most part we sit and we watch_. Finnick's words start to echo through my head again.

"Or is it me you're afraid of?" Alexa smiles, but it's not reaching her eyes. Suddenly she leaps forward, knife in hand.

"Run!" Grits cry out, and the three of them turn to flee. Just as Tad turns, his foot gets stuck in a root, and he falls face first to the ground. In seconds, Alexa is on top of him.

The knife gleams as she lifts it in the sky before driving it down into his back. Once, twice, three times. I can't watch anymore. I press my hands to my ears and close my eyes. It's not enough to keep the sound of the cannon out, and I know he's dead.

I now only have one tribute left. One amongst nine kids still alive.

15 dead, nine left.

* * *

_A/N Thank you for reading, and thank you so much for the reviews. Much of this chapter came to life thanks to ImaginationStation00 who got my mind working on the sponsor idea. _

_ImaginationStation00: I wouldn't be surprised if too many in the Capitol is still voting for Caiden. They like a show… I hadn't any thoughts about shipping when writing the scene whit Laraine and Caiden I have to confess ;-) But nice to hear that my characters are interesting enough to start shipping, I take that as a compliment! _

_Aislynn Crowdaughter: I like the darker side of the books, and I guess I have a tendency to focus on that. I think Tad's alliance was more about staying alive together, as I wrote a little about in the last chapter, but in the end, it comes down to kill or be killed. I appreciate hearing your thoughts! Thank you for your comment :-)_


	18. Chapter 18 - Gale

**Chapter 18 – Gale**

_And all this too shall pass  
This loneliness won't last for long  
I wasn't there to take his place  
I was ten thousand miles away  
So when you hear my voice  
Will you say my name?  
And never forget the pain_

"_Gale Song" by The Lumineers from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_

* * *

Ten days has gone since the reaping. But it feel more like ten weeks.

She came by our house early in the morning the day of the reaping. We were both too afraid of what was coming to talk much. Before she left – she was convinced someone had to drag Haymitch to the Justice Building – she took my hand in hers, squeezing it gently. It was the only sign of affection we could allow in the middle of District 12. You could never know who was watching.

"I'll come to say goodbye after the reaping," she promised. But she never did. Probably taken away by the Peacekeepers.

I'm looking out over the forest. It's quiet. Light summer rain is silently pouring down. I can hear the light dripping of raindrops falling from the leafs. I'm soaking wet, but I don't want to head back home.

It's Sunday and I know many people will be watching the Games on big screens in the town square. It's not often we have a contestant left this far out in the Games. Whit Katniss' victory last year fresh in mind everyone seems hopeful.

Of course, today everyone's a little less optimistic. The death of the boy from our District yesterday, seems to have woken everyone to reality again. It reminded us all that it's a question of life and death, and that death is the most likely outcome. At least for two scared kids from District 12. The odds has never been in our favor.

Nevertheless, every time one of our kids die, it seems to be a blow against everyone in the District. Even if we should have been used to it by now. Every time, the District is cloaked in a silent depression. It's like everyone is mourning. No kids are playing in the streets, and people walks with their heads bent as in sorrow.

I, on the other hand, can't quite see the different between one dying kid or another. How can I mourn one innocent child more than another? Even if we're a small District, I normally don't know our tributes any better than I know any of the tributes from the other Districts.

For me it's always 23 meaningless deaths, no matter where the kids are from. It's just one of the purposes of the Games, to set the Districts up against each other. If I'm willing to see the tributes from home live at the expense of the other kids' life, am I not playing into their Games?

Of course, my own morals took a huge blow last year when it was Katniss in the Arena.

Her life I did value more than any of the others. I could have seen them all die a hundred times if it meant for her to come home to me. I couldn't even force myself to be angry with myself. It was Katniss's life on the line, and nothing else mattered to me.

I hated every second of her Games. The constant fear of harm coming to her. Being a helpless spectator of her struggle to survive. It didn't get any better when they changed the rules and she risked her life over and over for another boy. Even now, when I know the whole romance was a strategy, at least for Katniss's part, I still feel the sting of jealousy in my heart.

Jealousy. It's not a good feeling. Especially when you competition is long gone. But still his ghost is haunting us. Driving us apart. Making sure we will never truly be together.

On a very selfish level, I'm glad he didn't survive, but it's a thought I don't like to dwell on. It's not like me to think like that. But I guess it's true what they say, love makes blind. Katniss is the only one who can make me throw my values out of the window. No, that's not entirely true, I guess with the life of my siblings on the line it would have been the same.

Seeing her go this year, was almost as bad as last year. It felt like I was losing her all over again. I constantly has to remind myself that she's not in danger, that she's not going into the Arena, that she's only there for the mentoring. But I guess that's bad enough.

The look on her face when I last saw her, sitting on the stage on reaping day, said she would be anywhere else but there. The pain on her face was even more profound than it was when she volunteered for Prim.

I'm finally starting to feel the cold. I get up and ruffle the water out of my short hair. It's been a poor day hunting. I only caught one rabbit in one of my snares. It's not enough to feed a family of five for a week. I can feel my stomach growl like an angry wild dog just thinking about it.

…

A hum of voices meets me when I reach the square. As I expected there's quite a crowd gathered there. I listen in on the conversation between two women close by. I understand as much that Alexa, the girl that killed Tad, is dead. Eaten by bugs? Not that it really matters to me how she died. Regardless, it means that one more twelve-year-old is dead. But it also mean we're down to the last eight.

The last eight. They'll be doing stories on the remaining tributes, including Laraine. My guess is that a camera team from the Capitol will arrive within the hour in search of her friends and family. Last year I felt like they were knocking on our door seconds after the last tribute not making top eight died.

Top eight. It also means interviews with the mentors. Katniss!

They haven't shown her on TV since the interviews with the tributes the day before the Games started. She had been on the arm of Finnick Odair, something that angered me. The Capitols puppet and a known womanizer. What was he doing with _my_ girl by his side?

Katniss had been waving and smiling, but I could see it was forced. And afterwards, when she was called up on stage to give the pin to Laraine I'm sure I could see anger flashing in her eyes. I don't think many other could see, but with all the hours I've spent looking into her face I can read her easily enough. But I've no idea why she would be angry.

I have barely finished my line of thoughts when Claudius Templesmith'ssmiling face announces that the mentors' interviews are up next. I'm standing nailed to the ground. I would rather be at home and not in the middle of the square right now, but I'm afraid I would miss Katniss if I chose to go now.

I was right to wait; they're starting with District 12. Haymitch's face fills the big screen and people around me fall silent. He's a familiar sight to us, having been our only mentor for all these years. He looks like his usual drunken self, no change there. He talks about Laraine joining with the careers and how he sees her chances of winning the Games. They thank him and Katniss is on.

A pained sound escapes my lips. The ones closest to me turns, look bemused. Seeing her is like a blow to my stomach. She looks exhausted. Even if they have tried to hide the circles under her eyes and her pale skin with makeup, I can't help seeing it. Her eyes are bloodshot and her cheeks more hollow than when I last saw her.

It looks like she hasn't been sleeping or eating in days, and if I know her at all that's probably the case. Looking at her now, she reminds me of the small girl I met in the woods many years ago. The tiny girl who mumbled her name so low I didn't hear it correctly. Like back then she's far too thin, and she has the same haunted look.

The interviewer is taking a different approach on Katniss than he did on Haymitch. He's asking more personal question about Laraine – how she's like, what she use to do back home, family, friends, school and so one. I'm surprised on how much Katniss has learned about the twelve year old girl in that short time. It's painful for her to talk about it, that's obvious, at least to me.

How I long for her to be back home with me. Far away from the manipulative, sick people that force her to learn and care about children that's up for slaughter.

I yearn for her to be back with me. Away from the Capitol, away from the Games. But even when she's home she'll still be called back for mentoring year after year after year.

_How will she survive that?_ I wonder. She thinks she can save everyone. Rue, Peeta, Tad, Laraine. She'll probably just see her kids die every year for the rest of her life.

Anger is starting to boil in me. _Fucking Capitol, can't they let her be? She won the Games, aren't you supposed to be free after that?_ But I'm starting to realize that's not the case.

I feel so hopelessly powerless.

Katniss is smiling, but it's not reaching her eyes, as she's thanked for being there. I stare one last time at her face before it's gone, replaced by another victor whose name I can't remember.

I have to get away from the square. It feels like people are closing in on me from every side, trapping me. I start pushing my way through the crowd. When the crowed is thinning out, I start running.

I'm out of breath when I reach Katniss's new home in Victors Village. I enter the door after knocking once. They're used to me coming and going. Both her mother and Prim is sitting by the TV. They must have been watching the interview. None of them are speaking.

I sit down next to Prim on the sofa and hug her close.

The Games has been hard on her. She misses her sister, and I think she have the same irrational fear of her being injured, or worse. The whole situation with Katniss being taken away to the Capitol feels too much like when she was a tribute herself.

Tad's death was hard on her as well. I had just come by and was talking to her mother in the kitchen when we heard the scream. She screamed in pain and horror. It was just a stroke of luck I was there. Her mother froze, unable to tend to her frightened daughter. She retreated into her own mind, to a world I could not reach.

I was at Prim's side in seconds. She was still screaming and her eyes was glued to the TV where I could see the crazy girl mutilating Prim's childhood friend.

I shudder at the memory of Tad's death. Prim has grown so much the last year, but at that moment, I saw that she's still just a child.

"She'll be fine," I whisper, stroking her back comforting. "Katniss will be fine, and she'll come home to us." I repeat the words I said so many times last year. We were sitting exactly like this back then as well, staring helplessly at the TV-screen. And just like then I'm not sure what I'm saying is meant to comfort the small girl next to me or myself.

* * *

_A/N I didn't plan to write Gale's POV from the beginning, but I wanted to give a pick into what was going on in District 12. I'm wondering about writing some of the chapters from Gale's POV when Katniss is coming back to twelve, or if I should stick with Katniss. Opinions are appreciated._

_Again, thank you so much for reading, and thanks to every fan, follow and especially reviews!_


	19. Chapter 19 - Revelations

**Chapter 19 - Revelations  
**

_I look in the mirror  
And I try to understand  
And piece it together  
Watch the blood from both my hands  
I can't see the ending  
There are people who know my every secret  
I'm tired of pretending  
You read my heart  
You read my heart_

"_Mirror" by Ellie Goulding from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_

* * *

"Katniss. I don't think I'm doing it right," I looked away from Laraine to watch the young boy struggling with the bow I'd borrowed him.

"Oh, that's because you're standing wrong. Here, I'll help you." I answered with a smile.

I walked the short distance over to Tad. Carefully I turned his body so he was standing parallel to the target, not head on.

"Now lift the bow. That's fine. Shoulders back. Look down the length of the arrow." I crouched down beside him until I was at the same level as him. My head was close to his as we both gazed towards the provisional target I had made.

He was breathing slowly while focusing hard on what to do. I caught myself in mirroring his even breath.

"Both eyes open," I whispered, "Draw back further… and release."

He let the arrow go. It hit right outside of the target, but it lacked the force to stick and it came rattling to the floor.

"I'm sorry, I'm no good," he said, the disappointment clear in his voice.

"That wasn't bad," I answered truthfully. "You don't become a good bowman in just a day. I have years of practice,"

Tad's shoulders fell and he walked over to the table putting the bow away. He sat down and let his head rest in his hands. _Did I say something wrong?_

"I don't have a chance, do I?" His words were barely audible, but they still ringing in my ears.

_No, he doesn't_, I thought to myself, but I couldn't tell him that. I couldn't.

Slowly I lowered myself to kneel in front of him.

"Tad," I said and paused. What was I going to say? The small boy lifted his head to look at me. Despair written all over his young face.

"Tad," I began again. "You're not going to if you've written yourself of before it has even started. No matter what you have to fight to survive. And neither me nor anybody else can do that for you. That you have to do for yourself. But if you choose to fight I'll be there to help you as much as I can!"

He watched me silently as I spoke. Absorbing every word. It took a few moments before he showed any sign of reaction to what I've said, but suddenly the corner of his mouth twisted upwards.

"Thanks, Katniss." He smiled at me, and I returned it with a smile of my own.

…

He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. The words are ringing in my head as I'm running to get away. I enter my room, the only place I can think of where I can close myself off from the world. Sudden nausea overwhelms me and I find myself hunched over the toilet emptying my stomach.

I can feel it the bitter aftertaste in the mouth. I wipe my mouth with the back of my sleeve. Then I curl up in a ball on the floor. First, I sob out of control. When it feels like I have no more tears to spare I start humming songs for myself. Songs my father taught me many years ago.

Everything inside me is in chaos. I feel myself chatter into thousands of pieces. How will I ever find the strength to puzzle them all back together again?

I can't focus on one thought for any length of time. It's a constant blur of blood, corpses, mutts, weapons. Pictures from both this game and my own a year before.

I look down on my hands and they're dripping with blood. But whose? Peeta's? Tad's? A new round of hysteric sobs leaves me shaking on the floor.

_What would my family say if they could see me like this?_ It's the first clear thought to cross my mind. Not even after I won the Games, did I lose it this completely. What would Gale think?

_Gale_. I haven't even allowed myself to think of him after arriving in the Capitol. Afraid I would lose my strength if I allowed myself to feel how badly I miss him. But now I'm broken never the less, so I try to hold on to Gale's face. His strong features and his steady grey eyes. It becomes my anchor holding me from drifting into the storm of nightmares and memories raging in my head.

I have no idea how long I've been curled up in my room. I know I have to pull it together. There are still nine kids alive, and one of them is Laraine. It's too soon to give up. But I can't find any will to get up.

A pair of strong, warm arms wraps around me and holds me tight. I can almost smell the forest around us. We're back in our woods, Gale and I. For the first time it feels like I can breathe properly again. I take several deep breaths, filling my lungs with the fresh forest air.

"Gale" I whisper.

"I'm sorry," The one holding me answers.

It's not Gale's voice. I'm not with Gale. I'm not in the woods surrounding District 12. I'm in the Capitol sitting on the floor in my room with a stranger holding me down. Hysterically I begin to struggle free from the embrace, and he lets me go.

"Katniss, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" for the first time I see the one sitting beside me. My eyes meeting his sea green ones. Finnick. My heart calms a little.

"Finnick? What are you doing here?" I ask when I have calmed down enough to find my voice. It's hoarse and a little high pitched.

"You've been gone for a long time. Haymitch got worried, and I volunteered to look for you." He gently lifts his arm and slowly reaches out and take my hand. This time making sure I catch his intention so I can shy away if I don't want him to. But I let him take it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks. I shake my head. "I don't like to talk about it either, but sometimes it can help." It's a statement, not a pressure to talk, and we sit in silence for a while. When I finally speak, I'm surprised of the words coming out of my mouth.

"What did you mean when you said that the mentoring was just one of many ways they use to control us?"

Finnick cringe back like I've struck him. It takes him a while to answer.

"Haymitch didn't want me to tell you, but fuck it. You have the right to know." He doesn't continue right away. He's looking down on his hand still holding mine.

"The Capitol wants to control the victors. I don't know exactly why, maybe it's because we could be seen as a threat, maybe it's the profit or maybe it's just another of their sick ways. Anyway, they threaten us, often with the life of those we love, to do what they want.

"The Victors are highly respected in the Districts and they want to show us of as Capitol-loving pets. They force us to mentor doomed kids. And some of us… some of us they sell," He speaks as in a trance, not showing any kind of emotion. He continues without meeting my gaze.

"The most desirable victors President Snow uses to sell for money or give as rewards to wealthy or influential people in the Capitol. When I say sell I mean our bodies. I've been a whore for the Capitol since I was sixteen." It's like he's talking about something happening to somebody else, not himself.

I don't know what to think. I've already felt the power of the Capitol when Snow threaten to kill Gale, so that part is not news to me. But forcing sixteen year olds into prostitution?

_I have powerful friends, Miss Everdeen. I will talk to Snow and I __will see you again_, It was the last words Echelaus told me before I closed the door in his face earlier today. Or maybe it's yesterday by now.? The words suddenly holds a completely new meaning. I shudder. I can almost feel his unpleasant touch and his breath on my skin. I feel sick again.

"How… How do you bear it?" I whisper.

"Often I don't, but I can't give into it. It take ten times as long to pull yourself together than it does to fall apart." He squeezes my hand and looks at me for the first time since he began his confession. "Katniss, I came to help you pull yourself together, but instead I drop this on you. I shouldn't have, but I thought you had the right to know."

"You think he's going to sell me as well." I'm not sure if it's a question or a statement.

He hesitates, and I can almost see the conflict between telling the truth or not to, reflected on his face. He sigh and it seems like he has settled on being honest with me. "I think Peeta has saved you so far. The Capitol loved the star-crossed love story, but I don't know how long that's going last."

Yet another thing I can add to the endless list of what I owe him. Yet another thing I'll never be able to pay him back for.

"Who's Gale?" Finnick suddenly asks.

"No one," I answer. I don't want to talk about Gale. Don't want anybody to know about him. Finnick doesn't ask again.

…

One should have thought that Finnick's words would only make it harder to pull myself together. But instead it helped. It felt for the first time as if someone was straightforward with me. Not telling lies. Not holding back information.

Until now, everyone has kept me in the dark. But Finnick has been honest, and suddenly I had a much clearer picture of what I was up against. I can see who the real enemy is. I can see what I'm trying to fight.

It helps me to pull myself together. I carefully scrape together all the little pieces that was me, and force them back together as best as I can. I get myself off the floor and to my feet. After I take a long shower. Letting the warm water run over my head and shoulders and down my body. In my head, I repeat the conversation with Finnick. Absorbing every word. Trying to paint a picture as clear as possible.

Then I dress in fresh clothes I find in a chest of drawers, pick up the rope Finnick gave me and walk confident back to the Mentors Lounge.

…

Alexa ended up being eaten alive by gigantic bugs. She had clearly lost all sense of how the clock Arena worked after the fog and stumbled right into the active eleven to twelve zone.

Her death resulted in only the top eight left, and personal stories where produced on all the remaining tributes. Both Haymitch and I was interviewed about Laraine.

Betting and sponsoring was also soaring. Both Caiden and Laraine was doing well money wise.

The next days goes by without any more deaths. It seems like the Gamemakers aren't in a rush to manipulate the game. Giving everyone time to discuss the events so far and place their bets.

It seems like all the remaining tributes are managing to stay clear of the ticking treats and have found water and a minimum of food – enough to keep them going. But the Arena isn't big and eventually some of the twelve year olds has to run into each other.

The next death comes as a surprise. The girl from District 3 who until then had followed carefully after the careers was suddenly spotted by Deeann and ended up dead after a vicious blow to her head from Everett. Yet another tribute dead at the careers hands.

This leaving only seven. Caiden, Everett, Deeann and Laraine, Haven and Grits, and the boy from District 5, who I can't remember the name of.

After two more days with no more deaths, it seems like the Gamemakers think the Games are beginning to drag. It's the 10th day of the Games and they're announcing a feast.

I remember how I dismissed the whole feast at first in my own Games. It wasn't until I understood that Peeta's medicine would be there that I decided to go. Therefore, I'm surprised, and a little suspicious, when there's nothing but food is announced to be at the feast.

Something is not right.

…

"Where's Finnick and Pelias?" I ask.

I'm standing in front of Enobaria and Abaris.

"Sleeping," Abaris answers. Not very talkative that one, much unlike his fellow mentor from four.

_Oh, my lucky day,_ I think. This would had been much easier with at least one of them here. How am I going to persuade these two the fest is too good to be true?

"They'll both be back before three to overlook the feast," Enobaria says, not looking in my direction. One can't say that our relationship has warmed much over the time we have known each other. "Was it something you wanted? If it's about the Games you can tell us."

"I… I don't think the feast is a good idea," I say.

Enobaria looks at me in disbelief, and suddenly starts to laugh. "You really are serious, fire girl?" she smiles indulgent at me. "And why is that?"

I grind my teeth. Giving into her mocking will not help me. "I think it's a trap," I say as calmly as I can.

Both amusement and annoyance is dancing on Enobaria's face, both feelings fighting to overcome the other. The amusement wins and she laughs again. "You have lost it." She says in a dismissing tone.

"But, listen to me. Something is going to happen on that feast. We have to send some kind of message to them. I was thinking if we sent them food, they'd know we don't want them to attend the feast." My voice is a little high pitched and is shaking slightly. I have to convince them.

"Give me a break," says Enobaria, the annoyance has now taken over. "And no, we are _not_ wasting money because of your gut feeling."

I know Enobaria is a lost case so I turn to Abaris with pleading eyes. But he just shrugs. No help there. I turn and walk away briskly. I can hear Enobaria chuckles behind my back, making my blood boil.

…

The feast is announced to be at three o'clock at the Cornucopia. Two hours left.

Caiden, Everett, Deeann and Laraine is of course determined to go. They outnumber the others and think they can only gain from the feast. One, there will be food, and two maybe they could take out some completion.

_There's very little we can do… very little we can do… very little… nothing…_

Laraine has held a low profile after the incident with the boy from ten. She rarely talks, and most of the time she's just drifting behind the three others. I have watched her toss and turn in her sleep and I'm pretty sure I can guess what her nightmares are about.

After the conversation with Finnick, I catch myself wondering if she would be better off killed in the Arena. But I can't think like that. I'm her mentor, and my goal should be to get her out alive. If I do succeed with that, I just have to keep watch over her when she gets out as well.

The careers and Laraine decide to stay low and get some rest before the fest.

_We sit and we watch. Sit and watch. Doing nothing…_

I end up watching Haven and Grits on the broadcast screen while waiting.

They have stayed together after Tad died, but the thought of food makes Grits want to take his chances and risk the feast, while Haven don't. Haven tries in vain to convince the boy to stay, but he has made up his mind. Tears are running freely down Havens cheek after Grits has taken off. I can see in her eyes she believe he's going to die there.

The broadcast keeps following Grits as he starts to journey through the jungle. He's set on using the same tactic as the girl I named foxface in my own Games did. Hide in the Cornucopia until the feast begins, grab what he can and clear out. He looks like a hunted animal while he creeps towards the island in the middle of the Arena. The Cornucopia starts to tower high over the small body, as he gets closer. He's constantly looking from side to side watching for any sign of other tributes, but there's none.

The relief is clear on his face, when he can hide away in the shadows of the big horn. The desperate hunger is driving him. By looking at him, I can almost feel the hollow feeling in my stomach that only long time of starvation can provide. His eyes are getting more and more hopeful as the time passes by, coming closer to three o'clock with no others in sight.

I see it before he does. The careers has arrived at the island at the back of the Cornucopia. Grits have no chance to notice any of them before it's too late. He's trapped, no possibility of escape.

This time Caiden don't play games, he kills the boy himself and the cannon fires.

The four of them step back, waiting for the hovercraft to retrieve the body and the feast to begin.

Haymitch, Pelias and Finnick joins me.

Haymitch sends me a glaze as I try to hide the few tears which I couldn't hold back. He opens his mouth to comment, but shut it when I shake my head lightly. We're all getting a little soft it seems.

The clock turn three, but nothing happens. The four tributes at the island has returned to the Cornucopia and is restlessly walking around on the small island. Suddenly the ground is starting to shake and the island starts to spin. The four twelve year olds are tossed to the ground.

When the spinning island is starting to slow I can see that they've lost all sense of direction. The jungle seems to be exactly the same no matter where one looks. They no longer have a clue which way is twelve o'clock, or any other zone for that matter.

I knew it. There was never going to be a feast. This was the purpose. Grits death was just a bonus. One more death. Leaving only six.

18 death, six left.

* * *

_A/N Thank you for reviews, it means a lot. Thanks also to fans and followers and everyone who keeps reading my story!_


	20. Chapter 20 - Enemy

**Chapter 20 – Enemy **

_I'm gonna hide my heart behind the peacock's fan,  
And keep my friends real close, yeah, this is how it's gonna go.  
I'm gonna find my knife and run it through those stitches,  
Throw my friends down in the ditches before they even know what  
I've come here for._

_"Take The Heartland" by Glen Hansard from The Hunger Games: Songs from District 12 and Beyond_

* * *

The odds are not in their favor. Out of the twelve paths the four tributes could have taken away from the Cornucopia, they take the one leading right into the upcoming threat.

Caiden is in a very bad mood. He probably feels tricked by the fake feast. What they thought would be an easy way to get food has turned out to be a huge disadvantage.

While the others linger at the beach, he stumble into the jungle to get water. He finds a tree and start hacking at it with a knife. I can see his anger and frustration in every blow. He's breathing heavy through clenched teeth.

A penetrating scream of pain suddenly fills the air. It feels like my heart skips several beats and I can't seem to breathe right.

It's dark. I'm chilled to the bones and my teeth are shattering. I'm curled up on a cold metal surface and thousands of pale stars glimmer on the broad night sky.

The scream echoes again, closer this time. I can hear the person's rough breathing close by. Whimpers and moans escaping between the cries of pain. I think the sounds are coming from beneath me.

Someone is lying beside me, holding me close. Peeta! I struggle closer wanting to share his heat and to be comforted by his closeness.

Hour after hour filled with cries of pain, whimpers and begging from the dying boy. Hours filled with fear and terror. And coldness, bone shattering coldness.

Can't it stop? Please make it stop!

"Katniss…" I think it's Peeta speaking to me, but I can't find the strength to answer him.

"Katniss!" This time the voice is more urgent.

"Peeta!" I manage to force out. "Peeta, why don't they just kill him?" In my head, I hear him whisper back _you know why_. But the voice calling me isn't his, and the third time my name is called I open my eyes.

Reality hits me in the face. I'm lying curled up on the floor in the Mentors Lounge. I have no idea how I ended up here. Finnick, Haymitch and Pelias are leaning over me, with concerned looks on their faces.

"Katniss, what happened?" Finnick asks, and I realize it was he calling my name before.

The familiar scream fills the room again, but this time I manage to cling firmly to the real world. The memories from that horrific night remain just that, a memory. "Cato!" I breathe out.

I can see Haymitch and Finnick exchanging looks, communicating silently to each other. Finnick reaches out his arm, and I take it.

"You're making it a habit out of mistaking me for other boys?" He whispers in my ear while helping me to my feet. I know I'm the only one who can hear. He's tone is teasing, but I can sense a deeper meaning behind his words. He's still wondering about Gale, I guess.

"I'm taking you too your room. Haymitch and Pelias can keep watch for us." Finnick says aloud.

_Oh, no, I'm not_. So that's what Haymitch and Finnick was silently discussing_. Get that crazy girl out of here_. But I have no intention of leaving.

"No, I'm fine. I'm staying," I answer, brushing Finnick's hand of my arm. Finnick is looking skeptically at me. "I'm fine, promise. It just took me by surprise that's all." I'm trying to sound confident even though I'm not. I still feel shaken and my chest is aching painfully at the bad memories.

"If you're sure…" Finnick says hesitantly, looking from me to Haymitch.

"I'm positive." I answer.

Haymitch shrugs "Let her stay. If she has set her mind on something you can just give up convincing her otherwise."

I walk over to Haymitch who's watching the monitors. Finnick follow shortly after with the short rope he gave me the day Tad died. I must have dropped it when I fell to the floor. He's handing it to me, and I accept it with a small smile. My fingers starts to work on a simple knot without me even thinking about it.

"How long was I out?" I ask Haymitch.

"Not long, only seconds. After the first scream you just got limp, and collapsed on the floor."

I nod once, not wanting to dwell on it. I scan the screens in front of me, trying to get a picture of what's going on.

Laraine, Everett and Deeann are still on the beach standing right on the edge of the jungle. They're gazing into the forest, but none of them are entering.

Caiden is running through the forest away from the beach. He's screaming Cato's name over and over in panic. Of course, Cato was his brother. The twelve-year-old boy must be reliving his worst nightmare right now. The dying screams of his older brother is echoing through the woods.

But how?

Another scream joins the first one. This time it's a woman. The cry is filled with as much pain and terror as Cato's. Caiden freezes at the sound. His eyes widens and it's clear he knows the voice.

"Mother!" he cries, and begin struggling through the jungle again, even more desperate than before. More and more screams are starting to fill the air, and Caiden is getting more and more agitated. Fear, pain and anxiety is radiating from the young boy.

A black cloud is forming over his head. I narrow my eyes. Birds. Dozens of birds. Jabberjays. So that's where the screams are coming from.

Caiden is sprinting through the jungle now, not paying attention to where he's running. Suddenly it's a sharp zapping sound and Caiden is thrown backwards with great force. He hits the ground and rolls over before lying still. Everyone seems to be holding their breath. One second, two seconds. The cannon fires.

"Fuck!" It's Pelias. I had almost forgotten Caiden was his tribute. "Fucking force field… I have to go find Enobaria. She's going to be pissed. She really thought the boy would make it. But I guess she thought so last year as well," he send me an apologetic look, "not meant as an insult"

"None taken," I answer, I'm surprised of how rough my voice sounds. Pelias smiles a strained smile before walking away.

The three of us that are left turn towards the screens.

"Looks like it's only our two Districts left," Finnick says.

Neither Haymitch nor I has any comments, and we watch in silence as Caiden's body is lifted out of the Arena.

The three tributes on the beach are looking at the body while it's being lifted away. They all have uncomprehending looks on their faces. They've been closed off from the jungle by an invisible wall, and have no idea what happened to Caiden or how he died.

Everett and Deeann exchange a look behind Laraine's back. Everett makes the slightest of nod. I understand at once that something is wrong. I can feel the anxiety growing in my body. Everett slowly reaches for his spear and I scream in warning. Of course Laraine can't hear me.

With one swift movement, Everett lifts up his spear and runs it through Laraine's back. The world seems to be standing still. Slowly Laraine sinks to the ground and rolls over to the side. I can see her chest rising and falling rapidly as she's struggling to breathe. My mockingjay pin is still gleaming on the front of her suit.

I can't tear my eyes away from the golden bird. Everything else becomes a blur. The small movement of her chest indicates that she's still alive. But they are getting slower, more irregular.

The knowledge that she's about to die is clear on her face. She reminds me of how Rue looked right before she died. I wish I could be with her. Hold her as I did for Rue, talk to her, be a comfort to her in her last minutes. But I can't. She's miles away. And even longer away from her friends and family. Her home, where she's supposed to be. My thought drifts to her family, her parents. Are they watching their only daughter die before their eyes at this moment?

Laraine suddenly draws one last gasping breath, and then the air leaves her lungs with a rattling sound. She never move again, and I can only faintly hear the cannon over the hammering of my own heart.

"I didn't see that one coming," I can hear Haymitch voice vaguely as though he is far away. I turn towards him, but I can't see him clearly. It's like a veil has settled in front of my eyes.

"Neither did I," Finnick voice is cutting through my fogged mind. And suddenly my numb body is boiling with hot anger instead. I fixates my eyes on Finnick. Waves of anger is running through me.

"Liar!" I hiss at him. "This was you plan all the way, wasn't it. I knew it was you who told them to bring her. You planned for this. You planned to kill her the whole time."

Finnick is calmly meeting my gaze. For a short moment, I thought I could see hurt flickering in them. But it's soon gone, and I'm too angry to care.

"No, Katniss. You're wrong. I had nothing to do with this." He says, lifting both his arms in a disarming gesture. I don't believe him. I _can't_ believe him.

"I don't believe you. How do you explain that your tributes are the only one left," I demand.

"I know how it looks, but I promise you I have nothing to do with what Everett just did."

I take one step towards Finnick. I want to hit him. I want to make him hurt. But Haymitch steps in between the two of us.

"Katniss, you're being unfair. I don't think Finnick had anything to do with this, and if he did, that is how the Games works. We can't hold what happens in the Arena against one another." He leans close and whisper in my ear so only I can hear. "It's the Capitol that's the real enemy, don't forget it."

I don't know what to say or do. I send Finnick one last fiery look before running out of the room. I close the door to the Mentor Lounge with a loud bang, before leaning my back against the door. My head is spinning and I close my eyes, trying to calm my beating heart.

I look up to see Johanna watching me. She's sitting in the same couch as the other day. How long ago is it? A week? No, it has to be more. I no longer know.

Johanna has a plate with iced cookies in her lap. Without a word she gesture for me to take one. I walk over and let myself fall down in a huge armchair next to her. I pick up a cookie and study it closely. It's decorated with a complex pattern in many colors. Still when I think back on Peeta's flower-iced cookies, I find his to be much more beautiful.

I look up on the screen to see what Johanna has been watching. To my surprise it's a rerun of a previous Hunger Game. I have to watch a few minutes before I remember which year it is.

"But this is your own Games," I gasp as the realization hits me.

"Yup," she simply answers.

"Why?" I ask. I gaze over at her.

"Better to relive you nightmares during the day than in darkness of night, don't you think?" she says.

I think about this while we see a younger Johanna throw an axe in the back of a running boy. It must be somewhere close to the end.

"Does it help?" I finally asks. "About the nightmares I mean…"

"No" Johanna says plainly. "Brainless!" she mumbles after a short pause.

We watch the rest of the Games in silence. I feel remarkably calm. All the fire has burned down. I feel like I should be sad, but I'm not. Maybe it hasn't sunk in yet.

Suddenly Finnick is standing in front of me, blocking my view of the TV. He reach his arm out to me, and for the second time today, he holds the rope out to me. I hesitate. I don't yet know if I believe him or not. But does it matter?

I reach out and take it. "Thanks" I mumble. He smiles at me before he sits down in the sofa next to Johanna and helps himself to a cookie. Johanna tries to smack his hand, but he's too fast and draws his hand away before she can hit it. He sticks his tongue out at her and grin. It's not his "Capitol" smile, it's genuine one. I can see the difference now.

I start working the rope while I watch the two of them out of the corner of my eye.

After a few minutes, Haymitch joins us. Neither me nor Haymitch are needed anymore. Both our tributes are dead, like 18 other twelve year olds. But still there are three more kids who must die before a winner can be crowned.

20 dead, four left.

* * *

_A/N Thanks for reading and thank you so much for every kind word! As always are reviews highly appreciated!_


	21. Chapter 21 - Winner

**Chapter 21 - Winner**

_Well I'm not afraid to die here  
But damned if I go on living a lie here  
So long we revelled in the spotlight  
And never think about the price we'd pay  
When all the world around us slipped away_

"_Place For Us" by Mikky Ekko from The Hunger Games: Catching Fire - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack_

* * *

In some mysterious way, I hold myself together after Lairane's death. I'm almost frighteningly composed. I don't feel present in my own body. It's like I'm watching someone else eating, sleeping, talking, like it's not me carrying these out everyday tasks. But it is. How long can I live in this distanced peaceful existence?

At night I'm haunted by nightmares, but that's nothing new. I often don't fall asleep before early in the morning and I sleep long into the afternoon.

I don't go back into the mentors communication room. Everything happening in the Games after Laraine's death I only hear second hand from the other mentors.

When I'm not sleeping, or trying to sleep, I spend most of my time in the common with Johanna eating cookies. Pelias often joins us, since all of our tributes are dead.

I don't see much of Haymitch. He's probably off somewhere getting drunk.

I'm walking down the hall from my room towards the common room. _How many days can it be left of the Games?_ Probably not many. I heard from Finnick yesterday that the boy from five killed Deeann, leaving only three. It won't take long before the Gamemakers will be driving the remaining tributes together for the grand finale.

"Are you sure this thing is working?" I stop in my track when I hear Haymitch's hoarse voice from inside a meeting room to my left.

"Yes, I am. Beetee has been perfecting it. It is blocking out every microphone within recording distance." It's a man's voice, one I can't place, but the Capitol accent is profound. "But we do not have much time before the technicians finds out something is wrong and they will come looking."

_What's going on?_ I know I'm not supposed to hear this conversation, but I can't convince myself to keep going.

"Okay. How's the situation in the Districts? They've cut all our communication out of here." It's Finnick's voice.

The Capitol man in answering, "It is tense. District 8 and 11 is in uprising, and the Capitol is struggling to keep the situations under control. Other District are not far from riots as well. Four, seven and ten can break out at the smallest of provocation. President Snow is under a lot of stress. He has declared martial law in every District and is increasing the number of Peacekeepers."

"What about Coin? Can we count on her?" Haymitch asks.

"Not yet. She say she will await the situation."

"Doesn't she always," I can barely hear someone mumbling, but I have no chance hearing who it could be.

"You said there's already uprisings in both eight and eleven?" It's a female voice.

"Yes, the girl of yours, who killed herself, did a huge impact. Especially in her own District. That was genius, where did you find her?"

I can hear something falling to the floor and someone's shouting out a warning.

"Cecelia!" It's Haymitch. His voice is sustained, but it has a clear warning to it. I wish I could see what's going on inside, not just hear the voices.

The woman's voice, it must be Cecelia, sounds again. "We didn't find her! She was reaped for slaughter because of your sick Games." She hisses, and I can hear the anger in her voice. "And she has a name you know."

"Yes, yes, yes. I am sorry. Calm down." It's the Capitol man speaking again. He is cut off by someone else.

"Could she be the symbol of our rebellion?" This time I know it's Johanna who's talking.

"That would have worked better if she was not dead," The unknown man answers and it's followed by more sounds of things being pushed over and someone trying to break up a fight.

"Pelias, take Cecelia outside."

_O no!_ I have to get away; before they find out I've been eavesdropping. But before I can back away from the door I hear Cecelia again. "No, It's fine. No need. I've calmed down. Just continue."

"What about the girl from twelve?" It's Johanna again.

"Afraid not. I hoped she would bring some of Katniss' spark. Bringing more fuel to what Katniss started last year. I made sure to give Laraine the mockingjay pin and all. But she fell apart after the incident with the boy from ten. Unfortunately." It's Haymitch speaking. _I knew it_. Something was up with that little setup with the pin.

There's a long silence after that.

"How much time do we have left?" Finnick asks, barking the silence.

"Not long, we have to be out of her in a few minutes." The man from the Capitol answers.

"We'll have to meet before we all leave the Capitol. And what about the others? Are we going to include any of them? What about Katniss?" Finnick saying my names makes me stay even though I should have fled the scene. _Include me in what? What is _this_ exactly? _

"No, not Katniss." Haymitch voice speaks up quickly and decisively.

"But hasn't she the right to know?" asks Finnick.

"She's my responsibility. I decide." Haymitch voice leave no room for discussion. I hear someone walking towards the door, and I know it's time to get away. I hurry down the corridor until I reach the common room where I slide down on a couch.

I has just regained my breath when one of the Gamemakers walks down the corridor while talking friendly with Pelias. I don't know the Gamemakers name, but I remember him from my private training session; he's the one tripping over the punch bowl when I shoot the arrow at them. He sees me and gives a friendly smile and a wave before turning to Pelias to say goodbye.

My head is spinning with questions as I see the Gamemaker walking away. Uprisings? Riots? Marshal Law? And what was that about the girl from eight? Of course I remember her. She's the one saluting and stepping of her plate before the 60 seconds was up. But what does she have to do with uprisings? Be the symbol of their rebellion? What rebellion? And who are they?

Laraine bringing fuel to what I started last year? What did I start?

Someone was talking of a woman named Coin. Who's she? Is she some kind of secret rebellion leader? What does she has to do with my fellow victors and the Gamemaker? Are they all in on some secret plot to rebel against the Capitol?

Haymitch made it clear I was not to be told. What is it he's keeping away from me? And why?

…

I was right about the finale not being far away. Later that day we have our winner. Haymitch is the one to come and tell me.

"They gave the three tributes ten minutes warning to get out of the jungle before they activated all the zones. Haven wasn't fast enough. She thought she could make it over to the paralyze zone, but the beast got her before she could make it over safely. The two boys both headed for the beach. It was bloody. If you want the details, see the recap. You wouldn't have thought two twelve year olds had it in them to be so brutal." Haymitch tells me.

I shudder and I feel nauseous. I'm afraid I have to see the recap, but I most certainly don't want to.

"Everett, from four, got the upper hand. At least District 4 can still boast about having the youngest victor to ever win the Games." He laughs a raucous laugh. "Actually I didn't think about that one before now."

It's over. The relief is flowing through me, but also a flash of guilt. How can I feel relieved after watching 23 kids die?

But I can't help it. Excitement is running through my body making me light headed. Soon I'll be home. Soon. It's only the Victory Feast left. I'm supposed to be there, but then I'm going home.

I'm going home to Gale.

Gale! As much as I miss him and want to be back with him the thought of him also fills me with remorse. _What am I going to tell him?_ Can I count on him being there for me if I reveal everything I've learned over the past weeks?

_Finnick told me President Snow wants to sell me to everyone rich enough to pay the price. Guess you have to share me, hope you don't mind. Oh, that's right, we're not allowed to be together because of my dead supposed boyfriend, so I guess that's okay then…_I don't think that conversation is going to end very well.

The right thing is to let him go. I can't make him stay with me. That would be cruel and selfish. But if I let him go, who else do I have?

…

I'm sitting with the other mentors at the back of the huge ballroom in President Snow's Mansion. We're sitting at the same table as I meet many of the victors for the first time at my own Victory Tour. It feels like a decade ago, but in reality it's only half a year since then.

So much have happened. When I look at the people gathered around me now, I see myself reflected in their faces. They have lived through the same as I have. They are living with the same fear of the Capitol as I do. And now I see that we're alike. More alike than I ever could have imagine half a year ago.

Give me five more years and I guess I'll be just like them.

Even if I long to be home I'm going to miss being around people who don't judge; people who don't lift an eyebrow when an unknown threat makes you jump or scream out. Being around people who understands. I'm starting to look at this people like they one day can be my friends. _Some of them, at least, _I moderate myself.

Finnick catches my gaze, smiles and walk over to me. It's his Capitol smile and he leans over to purr in my ear "Want to dance? Quite a wasted party without any dancing, don't you think?"

I laugh. I actually laugh. It's not forced or strained, it's heartfelt. It's his exact words from the night when we first meet.

I smile and let him lead me into the dance floor. It's going to be hard to say goodbye, especially to Finnick and Pelia. But I'm going to see them again. Year after year after year. And if what's Finnick says is true, I'm soon going to be a frequent visitor in the Capitol. _Not now, __Katniss. Don't think__ about that now. _

"Shouldn't you be with your victor?" I ask Finnick. I remember how lost I felt at my own party.

"Nah. Abaris is with him. I must be allowed to at least have one dance with our newest recruit. Oh, no. You're not anymore. Almost forgot." Even if his voice is joking, I can sense the sadness behind his word. Every year there's a new victor, and every year there are 23 dead kids.

We dance in silence, none of us having anything particular to say. After a while Finnick leans closer so he can speak without anyone else hearing.

"You never told me who Gale is, you know?" I frown at him.

"You never told me about Annie." I answer. He looks a little surprised. He hasn't talked about her with me. "Johanna did mention a girl named Annie." I answer his unspoken question. "Is it Annie Cresta who won five years ago?"

He nods. I don't ask him anything more. I can see the love and concern for her in his eyes. He don't have to tell me.

"Gale's my… cousin. Or so they say." I say. Finnick nods once. He understands.

A hand is laid on my shoulder, and I can see Finnick stiffen at the sight of whoever is behind me. I can feel his hand around my waist getting tens, and his fingers are digging into the fabric of my dress. His mouths squeezes into a hard line, before he forces it into a smile.

"President Snow. What a pleasure." His voice is once again a soft purr and the mask is back on. I feel my own fear shoot through me like a burning arrow. My knees feels week and I'm glad Finnick hasn't loosen his grip around me. I force myself to pull a calm, friendly mask on, just like Finnick did seconds ago. I turn around to smile at the devil himself.

"Mr. Odair! Miss Everdeen!" He greets us both with a nod of his head. His small snake like eyes rests on me. "Can I get this dance, Miss Everdeen?" He asks.

_Right, as if I have a choice_. I send Finnick a pleading look, but I know he can't help me. He has still an arm wrapped around me, and I cling to his shoulder for support. He looks sad at me, giving me the slightest of shake with his head, saying what I already know. I have to accept.

President Snow observes our short silent conversation with an amused expression. "That is if Mr. Odair here do not mind me borrowing his _date_. Come to think of it, do you not have an appointment later this evening Mr. Odair? You do not want to miss that, do you?"

"No, I haven't forgotten Mr. President, and of course I don't mind," Finnick forces out through clenched teeth. All the time with his smile in place. How does he manage that?

Finnick gives me one last reassuring squeeze before he leaves me with the president of Panem.

President Snow takes my hand in his and lies the other on my lower back dragging me closer. I have to force myself not to cringe away from him. _Breathe, Katniss_, I tell myself. _One dance and it's over. Breathe._

"Miss Everdeen. How did you like your stay in the Capitol?" President Snow asks. I watch his puffed lips moving into a smile.

"It was splendid, thank you very much." I answer stiffly.

"I am glad to hear. Because I was wondering if you would like to greet us with your presence more often over the next year," It's not really a question, and both of us know it.

_Oh, here it comes,_ I think.

"I understand that the last year has been rough on you, but now with the loss of your dear Peeta more at bay… I think it is time for you to move on, and what better place to do that than our beautiful Capitol."

He's still smiling, but my smile has fallen into a grimace. I understand perfectly well, what he implies.

He leans even closer. He's mouth at the level of my ear. I can smell the blood of all the innocent children on his breath. I feel lightheaded and nauseated_. I'm __hallucinating_, I think to myself. It wouldn't be the first time.

"My friend Echelaus Pender told me you were quite a disappointment, but I promised him a new meeting, and that he could expect to see a different side of the famous Katniss Everdeen then." His voice is so low I know I'm the only one who can hear his words. I'm afraid I'm going to be sick.

The song ends and glides into a faster one and to my relief President Slow releases me. With the few extra inches between us, I can suddenly breathe more easily. The overwhelming smell of blood mixed with roses not so pronounced anymore.

"It was a pleasure. I am looking forward to seeing you again. Please do not be a stranger." After a pause, he adds as in thoughts "And please send my regards to that cousin of yours, what is his name again. Gabe?"

"Gale" I say automatically.

"Yes, that is it. You have to excuse my bad memory; I am starting to get old." He kiss my hand lightly in a last goodbye.

I'm left standing alone in the middle of the dance floor. A short moment I'm afraid I'm going to break down right in the middle of the Capitols finest elite. But I compose myself and I stay as numb and distant as I have been the whole time since Laraine's death.

I have seen 23 kids die, two of them my own.

I'm ready to go home and try to forget.

23 dead, 1 left, but no winner.

* * *

_A/N Until now I've been ahead with the writing, but not any longer. This was the last finished chapter. This means the updates will not come as fast as before. I have a picture on where to go, but not which way to take to get there. But I will find the way...  
_

_Thank you so much for sticking with me. Thank you so much for reviews, it means a lot. Your opinions are always appreciated._

_Aislynn: I have placed small hints about revolution plans before. Katniss however, has until now had no idea about a revolution, and as long as I'm writing from her perspective I can only describe what she knows/understands. But I had planned for this chapter a long time, and I hope you liked it. It will be more about the uprisings from now on._


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